The Life of a Personal Assistant
by MemoriesFade
Summary: The last thing Ginny expected when she got called into work was a promotion; and she certainly didn't expect the disruption it would cause to her carefully constructed life.
1. Lucius Malfoy's Intentions

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy considered himself to be a fairly lenient parent. He had been strict with Draco, but he was reasonable when the occasion called for it. Perhaps that was where he went wrong. He had been too lenient with Draco and allowed Narcissa to spoil the boy far too much. He should have been sent to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, a school that Lucius blamed for fostering the insolent brat that Draco had become after his fifth year and Lucius's imprisonment. Lucius's lips curled as he listened to his lawyer prattle on, wondering if it would be considered illegal for him to use a Time Turner to go back and correct his parenting style. Although, he would certainly settle for going back one month to stop Draco from rutting Romilda Vane.

He rested his cane against his desk and rubbed his temples before raising his hand to silence his attorney. "Patrick, I will take care of this issue."

"Mr. Malfoy, sir, with respect to your persuasive skills, I'm not sure that at this—"

"Patrick, allow me to stop you before you land on my list of people to fire today." Lucius steepled his fingers and stared at Patrick with a blank expression. "These unneeded persuasive skills of mine are the same ones that kept me from spending time in Azkaban after Lord Voldemort fell at the hands of a teenager. I've used them on many other occasions. In fact, without them, I would not be the married man that I am today."

"I'm terribly so—"

Lucius raised his hand again, eyeing the sweating man curiously. "Patrick, after delivering the missive that you just did, do you find it in your best interest to interrupt me?"

"No, I'm sorry, sir," Patrick said hastily.

"As I was saying, these persuasive skills are handy and precisely what I need to get my way." Lucius paused for a moment and picked up his cane, setting it in front of his chair and resting his hands on it. "However, I will not be using these skills to deal with Ms. Romilda Vane."

Patrick, after a moment of silence passed, felt it safe to ask, "You won't?"

Lucius smiled, his white teeth gleaming in an unsavory way. "No, Patrick. You see, pregnant assistants are of no use to me, and, as you should know, there is a clause in Ms. Vane's contract that specifically states she will be released from her services if she is found to be with child, unless I decide she can stay on."

"Sir, that doesn't quite solve all—"

"The problems? Yes, I know." Lucius waved off Patrick's issues. "I shall deal with the issues of the paternity. My son may be careless with his choice in women, but he is careful when it comes to protection. Make an appointment at St. Mungo's to test the paternity of the child. I'll be sending Ms. Vane along in a moment."

"Of course, sir," Patrick said with a nod.

As Patrick exited the room, Lucius leaned back in his chair and pondered his current predicament. Because of his son's constant womanizing, Romilda Vane had publicly declared the fact that she was pregnant with the next Malfoy heir. If it had been announced to Draco only, the problem would not be a problem. Paternity could be easily determined with a quick spell, and Lucius could silently rid himself of her presence. However, the young girl, figuring she would sink her claws in the Malfoy estate, decided to release a statement to the press about the bundle of joy that would grace the Malfoy household—at least that was how the Prophet was spinning the story.

Lucius reached a hand out to the letters on his desk, pausing when his door opened and a regal blonde stepped into the room. Her blue eyes shone with undisguised anger, and her long blonde hair flowed freely about her, which Lucius had long since learned meant that she was upset. He had a penchant for her having her hair down and found pleasure in the fact that outside of the bedroom, his wife didn't let her hair out, except on occasions such as this—ones where her anger prevented her from doing anything with her hair.

"Have you seen this drivel?" Narcissa dropped the paper on his desk with unnecessary force. "I can't believe that horrid Skeeter woman is still on the staff at the Daily Prophet."

"Yes, well she's done quite well for herself as far as scandals go," Lucius said lightly, eyeing the picture of Romilda Vane clinging to his son's waist with disgust. "I shall take care of it, dear. Don't worry."

"It's not a matter of taking care of it, Lucius." Narcissa unbuttoned her jacket and sat in the chair in front of his desk. "It's a matter of our image and the companies image. We've been skating on thin ice since Potter did his noble duty and did away with the dark lord. Draco's frequent escapades are reflecting poorly in the eyes of the conservative population."

Lucius turned the Prophet over and stared at his wife. "I think it would be a good idea for you to step in down at the PR department now. I know you trained Lidia yourself, but an expert hand is needed to deal with this particular scandal."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, darling." Narcissa stood from her chair and rounded the desk, placing a chaste kiss on Lucius's lips. "Dinner tonight at the Golden Coral?"

"Have Astoria make the reservations," Lucius answered. He grabbed her wrist as she moved to walk away. "Also, how is Astoria doing?"

"I've been priming her to take my place, secretly of course. She still believes that she is my assistant," Narcissa said thoughtfully. "I think she will make a fabulous Malfoy bride. In fact, I think Draco should take her to dinner tomorrow evening."

"I'll have a word with him," Lucius said with a nod. "He's turning 25 in exactly two months. It's time for him to start acting like the Malfoy heir."

"I couldn't agree more," Narcissa said, smoothing down her shirt. "Tell Draco to make reservations at the Golden Coral as well for tomorrow evening. Astoria likes that restaurant. I haven't quite gotten her to the level of hiding her emotions."

"I'm sure in time, she'll make the perfect Malfoy bride," Lucius said, teeth gleaming as he smiled. "And she's—"

"Retained her innocence?" Narcissa nodded firmly. "Yes, she is rather prudish."

Lucius frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if there's anyway to find out for sure."

Narcissa smiled and patted his shoulder. "Dear, I handle our personal affairs a lot better than you do. I've already taken care of it."

Lucius chuckled. "Of course you have."

"Never doubt me, Lucius." Narcissa leaned down and gave him a final kiss. "I shall see you later tonight. Hmm, I suppose if I'm around for lunch we could dine together as well."

"Or have lunch in my office." Lucius winked at his wife. "Romilda will be gone by then, and our privacy will be doubly ensured."

"Lucius, desks are far too uncomfortable." Narcissa smiled and moved towards the door. "But with the right motivation, I could be persuaded to take lunch at home."

"It will certainly be delightful," Lucius murmured, eyes hooded.

Her tinkling laughter followed her out the room, and Lucius had to shake his head in wonder. Narcissa Malfoy nee Black had not been his first choice in brides. He had found her to be far too docile and meek in school. But she had proven him quite wrong. It was merely a facade, one that ensured that people did try and bully her. When they did though, they never attempted it again. She had a certain cold fury about her that made people back down, even before she took out her wand. He had found himself on the receiving end of her wand from time to time, and it was not a pleasurable experience at all.

Figuring he should try and sort out the mess his son had put them in, he opened his bottom drawer, revealing a slim journal. The book held the name of every employee that worked for Malfoy International, including the ones overseas. He pressed a quill to the first page, writing down the branch and the position that he sought. In an instant, words began to appear on the blank page. It was a list of every worker in the building with assistant in their job title, along with their department, supervisor and the amount of years they had been working for the company. They also had a small star next to their name if a complaint had ever been filed about them. His finger ran down the list, and he frowned as he realized that most had been working for the company for less than a year.

"That won't do at all." Lucius scribbled across the page once more, writing a small one and a plus sign. The list narrowed considerably. "Well, I suppose this makes my job easier."

He eliminated the employees on the first page before turning to the second and stopping. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to one name, and the smirk that appeared on his face was nothing short of sinister. He recalled a moment a few years back of hearing that Ginevra Weasley was currently employed at his company. However, he had thought that by now, considering the Malfoy name and the hatred she shared for him and his family, she would have quit. However, that did not seem to be the case. He dipped his quill into the nearby inkpot and circled the name 'Ginevra Molly Weasley' before flipping back to the first page.

He waited a moment for the words to finish appearing on the page, reading through them carefully. She was the assistant to Magnolia Flint, a relative of his good friend Darius Flint and the head of the real estate division. Lady Flint seemed to think highly of Ginevra. There was a small blurb that stated she was efficient and always on time. She had only missed work on four occasions in the past four years that she had been working in the company. A picture of her was provided as well, and she stared blankly up at him, dressed conservatively in a loose collared shirt, not quite as stylishly as Romilda or his wife. Prior to working for Malfoy International, she worked for Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

At the name, Lucius's smirk seemed to light up, and he closed the book, standing from his chair and turning to look out at Diagon Alley. His office building, consisting of ten floors, overlooked Diagon Alley, and he could point out all the stores that they currently held investments in. The final battle had taken place in two different places: Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, the mecca of Wizarding Britain. Shops and buildings had burned to ashes and others, like Gringotts and, ironically enough, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, had remained standing.

Lucius placed his arms behind his back as he looked out at the colorful building that stood out against the stretch of shops on the cobblestone street. He could see a stream of people entering the building and knew that there were more to come. He had long since seen the profit in the joke shop that the twin Weasleys owned, and long since tried to sink his hands into the gold mine. He had offered them a large sum of money as well as promised the two twins that he would facilitate their international launch. However, they had vehemently denied every offer he sent them and refused to have anything to do with the Malfoys.

Perhaps with the help of Ginevra Weasley, he could finally convince the Weasley twins to sign the contract, which he felt to be the fairest contract ever composed under the roof of Malfoy International, a company that sought to gain from its investments in anyway possible. Of course, after the war, many fair contracts had been composed, especially after the Fair Business Act had been composed by the Ministry, which stated that all contracts dealing with business investments had to be thoroughly looked over by the Ministry before being signed by the two parties. It was the Ministry's way of looking out for the small businesses.

A knock sounded on his door and pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter."

"Mr. Malfoy, I have your schedule for today—"

Lucius observed the woman before him, who was reciting his schedule and steadfastly ignoring his gaze. She was pretty, dark, curly hair framing an aristocratic face. When she had first applied for the position, Lucius had not given her much thought. Her application had been average at best, and her work was subpar. But she had a pretty face and dressed in a way that was suitable to his tastes—and the tastes of some of his clients. He often found that pretty assistants distracted his clients and made them pay less attention to the fact that the contract they were receiving was barely legal. Law or no law, Lucius found the wormholes, and Romilda Vane helped him to make sure they weren't discovered by prancing around in incredibly high heels, tight shirts and fitted skirts. His wife had not approved, but she did see the benefit in having the, in her words, 'tart' around. Apparently, his son didn't mind either.

"Ms. Vane, clear my schedule for today, I have a meeting with Ms. Flint." Lucius smirked and stared at her stomach, which showed no signs of a child. "And clear your schedule as well."

"Will I be taking notes for the meeting?" asked Romilda, still not looking up at him.

"No, you have much more important things to take care of," Lucius said, his voice deceptively soft. "After all, you're supposedly carrying a Malfoy heir in your womb."

Her head snapped up, her eyes reflecting a bit of trepidation. "Ye—yes, I am."

"That's it, girl, have a little confidence," Lucius chided. "After all, did you not have confidence when you revealed to the press that you would bear my son a child?"

"I thought it would be happy news," Romilda said, straightening her spine.

"Happy news?" Lucius laughed, shaking his head. "No, my dear. My wife and I would be happy to welcome a child into the family, but we would much prefer someone more suitable for my son. While your open legs are a tantalizing temptation for my son, your personality is not—nor is your sexual history. A whore has never been part of the family, and I don't think we'll be changing that now."

Her mouth open and closed as she searched for something to say. "You can't speak to me in that manner."

"Yes, I can," Lucius said silkily. He motioned to his desk. "I've already signed the documents to release you from the services of the company. Your severance package will be as outlined in the letter you will be receiving."

"I—"

"You will, of course, need to go to St. Mungo's and have a paternity test, which will show that my son is not the father of the child you are currently carrying." Lucius glanced down at a slip of paper on his desk and smirked. "In fact, I believe I should send a congratulatory present to Mr. Zacharias Smith as the child is no doubt his. You were cavorting with him, were you not?"

"How did you—"

Lucius raised his hand to silence her. "Don't bother me with questions. I advise that you clear out your desk and head to St. Mungo's immediately."

Romilda's cheeks were flaring red, and her eyes burned with anger and hatred. "I am not a whore, and this child is your son's."

"Ms. Vane, don't make a fool of yourself. Take the test and go on to live a happy, normal, plebeian life," Lucius said with a sardonic smile. "You're not worthy of the Malfoy name. The closest you'll get to it is the short affair you had with my son. Look back on that time with fond memories."

"I have never been so—"

"Be sure to clear my schedule and notify the concerned parties that I will not be able to attend the meetings before you leave," Lucius interrupted.

Romilda, seemingly having nothing left to say, spun on her heels and exited the office. She hesitated at the door, and Lucius gave her a patented glare, one that ensured that she would not slam it. She closed it quietly behind her, and Lucius smirked to himself as he heard her stomping around in the outer office. There was the sound of glass breaking, no doubt from the picture frames that littered her desk, and the squawk of an owl. He had not expected her to actually clear his schedule but laced his fingers in satisfaction as he watched an owl soar past his window, scrolls tied to its legs.

His day was turning out quite well under the circumstances. Now he simply needed to get Ms. Weasley into his office, and he would consider it a day well spent.


	2. A Rainy Day

To the anonymous reviewers that I'm not able to respond to, thanks for you reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

Ginny Weasley stepped into her boss's office at seven-thirty. She was early for work, but Magnolia Flint, her boss and aunt of her former classmate, Marcus Flint, had sent her a letter asking her to be in early that morning. Ginny placed the cup of tea down on the desk, Magnolia's favorite, and set a warming charm on it before resting the Daily Prophet next to it. She opened the vertical blinds and let in the sunlight, pausing for a moment to look out on the nearly empty streets of Diagon Alley. There were no early morning shoppers to be seen.

She turned on her heel and glanced at her boss's desk, the headline of the Daily Prophet flashing scandalously at her. The day before they had told a story about Romilda Vane, who Ginny had seen from time to time on the lifts, announcing that she was giving birth to a Malfoy heir. Before reading the article, Ginny had assumed it was Lucius Malfoy, and the thought had made both her eyebrows shoot into her hairline. But that had not been the case. Romilda had claimed that Draco Malfoy was the father of the child. This morning, the Daily Prophet had printed a retraction, one that did not out rightly comment on Romilda's promiscuity but certainly hinted at it. Ginny shook her head and exited the office, entering the outer office where she worked, her desk littered with pictures of her family.

Picking up her tea, she sat at her desk and smiled when Harry, Ron and Hermione waved at her from a picture they had taken in Muggle London. She sipped her tea and opened a small book on her desk. There were a plethora of tasks for her to get started on today, and she desperately wished she could start them and get out of work early. However, Magnolia had instructed her not to start because there would be some schedule changes. She took up her wand and cast a cleaning charm on her desk, watching as the glass frames sparkled with renewed shine.

Her desk was basically a shrine to the Weasley family. There were pictures of Bill and Fleur in their home in France and another of them with Victoire, their first child. Charlie, who did not have a wife or child yet, shared a frame with a ferocious dragon, which breathed fire at Ginny in the mornings. She smiled at the picture of Fred and George, hair ends singed after a disastrous experiment gone wrong. Her pictures of Ron all included Harry and Hermione as the three had gone off to travel for a few months; it had been four years though and none of them had returned home, not permanently at least. The three of them popped in every other week for dinner at the Burrow. She only had one picture of Percy, a wedding picture with him and his wife Penelope. The relationship between Percy and the family was still quite strained, but they had all shown up for his wedding nonetheless.

"Good morning, Ginny."

"Morning, Magnolia." Ginny waved as her boss entered the room. She was a woman in her mid-forties, single and quite happy with her lifestyle. "Do you want to go over the schedule changes while you have your tea?"

Magnolia smiled sadly, dark, cropped hair brushing against her chin as she shook her head. "Unfortunately, you won't be going over my schedule changes with me."

"I won't?" Ginny tried not to looked shocked at Magnolia's words. "What do you mean?"

"You'll no longer be working for me," Magnolia said sympathetically, gazing at her with sad blue eyes.

"But—but I've worked for you for four years, Magnolia. I'm an excellent assistant. I shouldn't be getting fired," Ginny shouted, standing from her seat. "In fact, I deserve a raise soon. I work long hours, and I do a lot more work than what's required of an assistant."

Magnolia's mouth formed an 'O' of shock. "I suppose that did come out wrong. You're not getting fired, Ginny. You're getting promoted."

"Promoted?" Ginny gaped. "I didn't know there were any open positions or any that I was up for."

"Well, one just opened up yesterday." Magnolia smiled at Ginny encouragingly, the small lines at the side of her eyes crinkling. "It's an amazing position, Ginny, and it does include a substantial raise."

Ginny picked an invisible thread from her cardigan, trying to regain a bit of dignity after her outburst. "What position is it? When will I be moving?"

"The head of the company is in need of a new personal assistant, and he has picked you," Magnolia said excitedly. She didn't seem to catch the trepidation in Ginny's eyes. "He is adamant that you come and work for him. I'll be sad to see you go, but it is a great opportunity."

"I'm fine here," Ginny said stoically, sitting back down in her chair. She looked at Magnolia with a glazed over stare. "I must respectfully decline the promotion."

It was Magnolia's turn to gape. "Ginny—Ginevra, I don't think you understand. Lucius Malfoy is intent on having you as his personal assistant."

"Ms. Flint," Ginny began, reverting to surnames, "while it would no doubt be an honor to work for Mr. Malfoy, I have personal discrepancies that will prevent me from performing at the level that I am capable of performing at."

Magnolia shook her head. "I'm sorry, darling. Personal reasons or not, Mr. Malfoy made it clear that you are to be in his office at eight in the morning. He wants to interview you properly before giving you the position."

"Magnolia, I can't," Ginny pleaded, thoughts of her first year coming to her. "I don't think you understand the magnitude of hatred that exists between myself and the Malfoy family."

"You've been working for his company for four years now," Magnolia pointed out. "I don't think you can use that as an excuse."

"Working for his company, not for him," Ginny rebuked. She clasped her hands together. "I've never had to come face to face with him."

"Ginny, I can't pretend that I understand what your issues and feelings are with the Malfoy family. However, I can tell you that, at the very least, you have to go to that interview." Magnolia came behind her desk and patted her gently on the shoulder. "I have fond feelings towards you, darling, and I would hate to see you on the streets, blacklisted and searching for a job. I couldn't help you if Lucius decides to bring down the full force of the Malfoy name on you."

"He wouldn't—I'm not that important," Ginny said meekly.

"Take a few moments, gather your wits about you and go up and see Lucius." Magnolia squeezed her shoulder. "You'll be fine, Ginny. He isn't all that terrible."

Ginny thought the idea of Lucius not being terrible contradicted the fact that he was willing to blacklist her. She inhaled a deep breath and tried to banish memories of her first year from her mind. Ginny knew it had been years ago, thirteen to be exact, but she could still feel that weightless, cloudy feeling that had overcome her as Tom possessed her. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her fragile mind, and the guilt that had overcome her after the terrifying events. Lucius Malfoy had done that to her. He had sacrificed her to a madman, who had wanted nothing more than to completely take over her soul. Ginny clenched her hands, the terrifying thought that her soul wasn't completely intact overcoming her.

She took deep even breaths, clenching and unclenching her hands. Magnolia had been right. She had been working for the Malfoy company for four years. If she did have as much a problem with Lucius as she thought she did, she would have left years ago. She desperately tried to rationalize with herself, not willing to give up the job that given her independence. She didn't want to have to go back to living with her parents and working as a shopkeeper at Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

Four years ago, her life had been anything but great. Harry, who she thought she would one day marry, had become restless with his job in the Auror department. Ron and Hermione seemed to share his sentiments. They came up with a plan to go and travel, experience the world without the dangling gloom of death looming above their heads. So they gathered their savings together and went off on another adventure together.

Harry had asked her, of course, to come along with him. But she knew deep down that he didn't want her there and neither did Ron or Hermione. The three of them needed an adventure together, one that didn't consist of people hunting them down to kill them. And Ginny refused to be the tagalong, which she knew she would be, even if Harry, Hermione and Ron assured her she was not. Plus there was also the fact that Ginny, unlike the trio, did not have savings to squander. Her savings had been put aside for the day that she would finally be able to rent a flat.

The day came a few months after the trio left. They had been in Rome at the time, and Ginny had been glowering at the postcard and picture they had sent her. She had tossed it down next to her cereal bowl and picked up the Daily Prophet, intent on finding a job. After scouring the pages, she spotted one: Assistant needed at Malfoy International. The job had been sandwiched in by a position in the Magical Menagerie and a janitorial position at St. Mungo's. Given her prospects and her desperate situation, she had decided to apply.

Magnolia had hired her on the spot. In her words, she had been happy to have someone normal without strange hair or body odors apply for the job. Ginny had been too relieved to even bother questioning her. A week later, she withdrew her savings from her account and rented an apartment in Hogsmeade off High Street, close to the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't much; she often had to listen to the raucous behavior of the patrons of the Three Broomsticks. But that didn't matter because it was her own place, and she could do whatever she wanted. Ginny didn't want to give up that freedom.

Ginny knew she had no choice, and she hated that feeling. Perhaps if she were outright with Lucius, he wouldn't hire her. She could flub the interview, and he would decide she was a disaster. Of course, she also risked the chance of getting fired from her current job, but then he might not have any urges to blacklist her. It was a terrible idea, but, at the moment, it was all she had.

Magnolia stepped outside her office and tapped her watch. "Time is ticking, darling. You have fifteen minutes."

Ginny nodded, knowing exactly what she must do. She stood from her chair and took firm steps out of the office without saying a word to Magnolia. The walk to the lifts was the longest she had ever taken, and as she stood there waiting, she pondered the idea of running out of the building and never looking back. Working for Fred and George wouldn't be a terrible idea, and she could convince them to pay her well. The lifts arrived and she stepped on, hesitating before pressing the button for the ninth floor. She inhaled and held her breath, blowing it out in a loud stream. The man next to her on the lift looked over at her curiously but seeing her face, wisely said nothing.

He got off on the fifth floor, and she rode the lifts to the ninth floor alone. When the doors opened, she stepped off the lifts and onto the light wood floor of what she suspected to be a lobby, though it looked much more like an art gallery. White walls were decorated with different paintings, all of an abstract design and set with glow charms. Behind the receptionist's desk was a large sign that read Malfoy International. She didn't know why they needed another lobby, but she didn't speculate on it. Ginny took a deep breath and walked towards the receptionist, who was idly smacking her pink covered lips while flipping through the style section of the Daily Prophet.

"Excuse—"

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, not looking up at Ginny.

"Yes with Mr. Malfoy," Ginny replied, annoyed at the girl's impertinence.

She looked up with bored eyes. "Have a seat. Mr. Malfoy will be with you in a moment."

Ginny sighed and walked towards the waiting room and sank down in one of the armchairs. The minutes ticked by, and she crossed and uncrossed her legs, smoothing down her trousers. She buttoned her cardigan and unbuttoned it, stretching the top underneath to ascertain if blue was the right color to wear under her cream cardigan. She frowned as she looked up at the clock behind the desk. There were more valuable things she could do with her time than sit around and wait for Lucius Malfoy to deign to see her. She could be back behind her desk where she preferred to be.

Ginny stood up and approached the receptionist once more. "Excuse—"

"I already said Mr. Malfoy will be with you in a minute," the receptionist said.

"Listen, you little twit," Ginny said, her temper getting the best of her. "I don't want to see, Mr. Malfoy. I would much rather be in my office right now. Instead, I'm here. So I need to see Mr. Mal—"

"Miss Weasley, when you're done berating my receptionist, perhaps you can join me in my office." Lucius was standing in the hallway off the lobby, staring at the two women. "Kimberly, I'm happy that you have the ability to read, but perhaps you could read the appointment book and realize that I asked for Ms. Weasley to be sent straight back."

Ginny suddenly felt her temper and confidence dissipate at the sight of Lucius Malfoy. He was dressed in Muggle attire, a dark gray suit with a light blue shirt underneath. His hair was tied back, and Ginny couldn't believe that he looked almost normal. If it weren't for the stare he set on the receptionist and the smirk that graced his lips, Ginny would believe that someone had inhabited Lucius Malfoy's body. He didn't seem mean and evil. Ginny thought it must be because he wasn't wearing all black, not because he wasn't actually evil.

"Miss Weasley, shall I wait for you to stop ogling me?" Lucius raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "I assure you my wife won't appreciate you fantasizing about me."

Ginny gaped. "I was—I'm not—"

"This way," Lucius said, cutting through her staggered speech.

Ginny didn't know whether to follow him or march out of the building with her pride still intact and pictures in a box. She could stay with Fred and George for a bit and get her act together. But the thought of staying in the two-storied flat that Fred and George shared made her follow behind Lucius with slightly wobbly steps. There was no way that she could stay in the cacophonous house where things often exploded and food was never edible.

Her flat shoes made no noise as she followed behind Lucius, her eyes taking in her surroundings. She passed a conference room with an all glass wall that allowed her to peer inside where a lady flittered about filling water jugs. Doors were on either side of her as she trudged down the hallway, her feet feeling oddly lead-like the closer they got to the end. A set of light maple wood, double doors stood at the end of the hallway, and Ginny instinctively knew that was where Lucius Malfoy's office resided.

She had to mentally berate herself for being so scared of stepping into Lucius Malfoy's domain, and as confidently as she could, walked through the doors, which closed behind her with a soft click. Whereas the office outside was light and airy, Lucius's rooms were masculine and elegant all the same. It was carpeted in dark gray with light gray, almost white walls. A floor to ceiling window covered one wall where two black sofas sat facing one another, a small coffee table in between. The other side of the room held a floor to ceiling bookshelf, a desk in front of it, which looked barren and empty compared to the book lined shelf behind it. Two doors were in the room, one directly in front of the double door and another next to the bookshelf.

"Miss Weasley, shall we?" Lucius stood, holding open the door in front of her. "I don't have all day."

Ginny fought the urge to tell him to go about his business. "Of course."

She entered his inner sanctuary, decorated in the same color scheme, and sat in one of the armchairs in front of Lucius's desk. She demurely set her hands in her laps and waited, worrying her lip, for him to sit in the leather chair behind his desk. Lucius took his time to sit down, and Ginny thought he was doing it purposely. She didn't know why, but she thought it must have been a power trip, the fact that she had to wait for him quietly and patiently. Her teeth sank into her lip, and she pursed them, hoping that she did not draw blood.

Lucius finally sat behind his desk, observing her. "Lady Flint explained the reason why you're here?"

Ginny nodded, a small amount of shock at hearing Magnolia being called Lady Flint. It wasn't an odd title, since that was indeed how she was addressed for social functions, but she didn't expect it from Lucius. "Yes, she told me but—"

"Ah, the but," Lucius interrupted, a smile, which Ginny could barely classify as such, appeared on his face. "I didn't doubt I would hear one. Do tell me your worries, Miss Weasley, so I may effectively quell them."

Ginny thought it an odd phrasing but continued on. "Mr. Malfoy, with all due respect, I don't think I am the right fit for your establishment."

"You're already working for my company," Lucius rebuked. "What else?"

"There are personal reasons why I would prefer not to work for you," Ginny bit out, not happy with his dismissal of her answer.

"Of course, personal reasons. I didn't expect that at all," Lucius drawled. He motioned for her to continue. "What are these personal reasons, Miss Weasley?"

She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "I don't think . . ."

"You should speak of it?" Lucius supplied. He shook his head, a blank expression on her face. "You'll have to be much more assertive with your stance on things when working for me."

"I don't remember accepting the job," Ginny replied, her back straightening at his assumption. "I came up here to tell you that I must respectfully decline."

"I will assume your personal problems with me are due to the brand that I have on my arm," Lucius said, his voice calm and quiet. "I know that there is a stigma that follows me because of my questionable affiliations in the war. However, people do make mistakes, and I am one of those people."

"Mr. Malfoy, my issues with you are much more personal than the fact that you sided with Voldemort," Ginny said coldly, some of her Weasley backbone finding its way back to her. "My hatred for you runs much deeper than something that the public feels. I could forgive you for being a Death Eater—maybe. But I can't forgive you for taking the innocence that I had as an eleven year old girl."

"Miss Weasley, I assure you—"

"Assure me that what?" With the rage of what she felt in her first year fueling her, she stood to her feet, nostrils flared and cheeks red. "That you didn't expect that Voldemort would try and take over my soul and kill me? That you didn't think I would have nightmares for years to come of not having control of myself? That sometimes in the darkest depths of my mind, Tom Riddle still haunts me? Well, it happened, Mr. Malfoy. As a young girl, I dreamt about monsters, and you put me in the hands of one, and I will never forget it."

Before she could turn on her heel and walk out, Lucius's office doors flew open and in stormed none other than Draco Malfoy. Ginny hadn't seen him since he graduated from Hogwarts, but she could tell he was not happy, if not by the way his jaw was clenched then by the way his body seemed to crackle with anger. Without a second thought, Ginny snuck by him and exited the office, going unnoticed by father and son as the door closed behind her.

"Dinner with Astoria was quaint last night, especially considering the fact that I was unaware I was taking her anywhere until she popped into my flat unannounced."

Ginny could hear the muffled voices from within and couldn't help but to step closer.

"Yes, well, she's a nice girl."

"I have an idea. Why don't you date her, Father? She's such a nice girl, after all. Never mind that she used her innocent demeanor to rise in the ranks of Slytherin."

"Your mother ensures me she's pure."

Ginny scoffed and felt disgusted at the idea of Lucius or Narcissa ensuring a witches' purity.

"Father, there's more than one way to get gratifying pleasures from a girl that don't involve penetration."

"Your mother wouldn't appreciate your language, boy."

"I would rather have a whore warm my bed than Astoria Greengrass. At least a whore will generally admit to her past, whereas Astoria will bat her pretty eyelashes and pretend she never gave two boys—"

"That is enough. It's time you settled down, Draco. I want you to start representing Malfoy International in a positive way. Stop cavorting around like a classless Black."

"Forgetting that Mother is a Black, Father dearest?"

"Your mother will always be a Malfoy before she's a Black."

Ginny hurried out of the office as the voices fell quiet, not wanting to be caught listening at the door. The bang of a door slamming resonated down the hallway to the lifts, and she couldn't help turning around out of curiosity. She saw him stalking towards her, a striking figure in his Muggle suit, jacket unbuttoned. Hair cut low, strong bone structure, and a proud stance, he was every bit the Malfoy heir.

He paused, his eyes falling on her as she tried to blend in with the wall. He quirked his lips, a smirk appearing on his face. Gray eyes penetrated her, and she felt like a piece of candy stuck to the floor, not deigning to so much as touch the bottom of his expensive shoes. In that one expression, it was apparent that he thought her nothing but a lowly Weasley. But she couldn't help the unwilling flush of her cheeks as he raised an eyebrow mockingly at her, challenging her gaze.

Ginny didn't say anything. She turned on her heel and fled. Her feet took her to the lifts, and she went back down to her office, not bothering to say anything to Magnolia as she transfigured a quill into a box and tossed her pictures in them. She picked it up and without a word, walked out of her office. She would send Magnolia a letter of resignation. For now, she couldn't bear the thought of saying goodbye to the woman, who had taken her in and taught her the way of the business world. The interaction with Lucius Malfoy had been taxing and the one with his son surreal. She desperately wanted to run away.

It didn't take her long to reach the office Floo and go home. The box was slightly mangled when she arrived at her flat, and she set it down on the small desk in the corner of the room, stripping off her cardigan. The cooling charms that she had placed in the flat weren't strong enough to last the entire day, and she wished that she could afford to have it done professionally. According to the advertisement in the Daily Prophet, it could last for the entire summer.

She sank down on her couch in her loose blouse, untucking it from her trousers and kicking off her shoes. Her mind was slowly picking up to what had happened, and she groaned in her hands as she realized that her temper had gotten the best of her. The emotions that she had bottled up had exploded, and she had let them loose on Lucius Malfoy. Despite the fact that she was now unemployed, she couldn't bring herself to regret it. For years, she wondered what would happen if she encountered him in the building, and now she knew. It felt like a purging.

She knew later she would regret it, later when her savings ran out. She wasn't completely destitute. There was enough money in her bank account for her to survive for a month without pay. In the four years she had worked for Malfoy International, she made sure she put a small amount of money into savings. Her mother had always told her it was important to build up some sort of safe hold for herself, a stash for the rainy day. Ginny felt like today was a thunderstorm.

Ginny rested her head on the back of her sofa and closed her eyes, popping them open soon after when a tapping noise filled the room. Her gaze settled on the window where an owl hovered in the air, a letter in its beak. She wondered briefly if it was Lucius Malfoy but banished the thought. If anything, the man was probably happy to be rid of her from his office—or still attempting to gather his thoughts. She walked to the window and opened it, allowing the owl to perch on the sill. A bucket of owl treats sat to her right, and she gave the gray owl one before retrieving the letter and scooping some from the box outside her window. Apparently, post had come earlier when she hadn't been home.

There was a bill from the Daily Prophet, a letter from Bill and then one that was no doubt Hermione's, if the tidy scrawl was anything to go by. The 'H. Granger' at the top left corner confirmed her belief, and she quickly opened it, happy to hear news from one of her best female friends. The missive was short, but Ginny jumped in excitement as she read it.

Ginny bent over at her desk and crossed out Hermione's missive, quickly scribbling: How does an early lunch sound? Luckily for Ginny, Hermione's owl hadn't dashed off, and she tied the missive to the bird's outstretched leg and sent it off. She also reminded herself that she needed to go get herself an owl, especially if she planned on sending out enquiries for jobs. She waited for the owl to come back, opening Bill's letter, a detailed account of his assignment in Spain and its success so far. She smiled and placed it on her desk next to the letter from Ron she had received over the weekend. He hadn't mentioned that he would be coming home. Ginny wondered why.

Minutes later, the owl swooped back in with an affirmative to meet at the Three Broomsticks in ten minutes. It would be nice to be able to talk to someone about what had happened and to find out what Harry, Ron and Hermione had been up to. Last she heard, they had been touring a Wizarding school in America.

Her flat was located in a small building with three floors, each floor containing three apartments. She was on the third floor, which she paid more money for but it was better than being sandwiched by thuds above and shouts below. She descended the wooden staircase, wincing as she heard the shriek of 2A's infant child, and exited the building on the first floor. The Three Broomsticks was a short walk away, down a one-lane street with brick sidewalks. From her kitchen window, she could look up and see the highest tower of Hogwarts and could still hear the train pull into the station.

She hiked her purse up on her shoulder and exited on the main street of the small town of Hogsmeade. There were very few people on the street, and she walked to the front of the Three Broomsticks, pushing open the door. She could smell the left over stench of eggs that clung in the air from breakfast, and she walked towards the bar, waving at Madam Rosmerta, who had come to acknowledge the fact that Ginny was there often.

"You're here early," Madam Rosmerta greeted as she spelled a cloth to wipe down the counter. "What can I get you?"

"Two mugs of Butterbeer," Ginny replied, ignoring her statement. She dropped the right amount of change on the bar and grabbed the mugs in front of her. "Thanks."

Madam Rosmerta nodded. "Are you eating today?"

"Yes but I'll wait until my friend gets here," Ginny said.

She walked to a booth in the back and sipped on her Butterbeer, idly tapping her nails on the table. She didn't have to wait long for Hermione to arrive. Her bushy hair was tied back into a simple braid, errant strands falling loose, and she wore a pair of denims and a cardigan similar to Ginny's. She waved and approached her, and Ginny stood to hug her friend.

"Ginny, it's good to see you," Hermione said, sitting down when they released one another. She thanked Ginny for the Butterbeer and eyed her attire. "I thought you would be at work. You're certainly dressed for it."

"I quit," Ginny said, sagging in her seat.

Hermione gaped. "You quit? You liked your job."

"I still do," Ginny said quietly. She told Hermione the story of what happened and watched as her friend studiously avoided making any telling facial expressions. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Ginny, not that I'm a huge fan of Lucius Malfoy, but he has a point," Hermione said, waving Ginny to silence when she tried to speak. "You've been working with Malfoys for four years now. It doesn't matter that you haven't actually seen him. What matters is that you've been working there with no qualms."

"But this is different," Ginny said defiantly. "I will not work for Lucius Malfoy."

"I don't see this as being any different from working for Magnolia Flint. Didn't you say that you see Marcus Flint from time to time?" Hermione nodded when Ginny avoided the answer. "Right, you kissed him that night you got sloshed. Wasn't it after that Quidditch match?"

Ginny glared at her friend. "Kissing Marcus Flint has nothing to do with working for Lucius Malfoy."

"It does," Hermione said. "You've forgiven him, whether intentionally or not. You could have worked with Fred and George and convinced them to give you a raise. But you didn't. You decided to work for Malfoy International."

Ginny slumped further in her chair. "It doesn't matter anyway. I couldn't get my job back even if I wanted it."

Hermione patted her friend's hand. "It'll be alright. You'll figure something out."

"Maybe I can join you, Harry and Ron in your adventures," Ginny suggested amusedly.

"You could replace me," Hermione said casually.

"Replace you? What do you mean?"

"I'm coming back for good," Hermione said. "Headmistress McGonagall is retiring from her position as Transfigurations professor. I had an interview with her and Snape yesterday."

"Snape?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't you hear? He's Deputy Headmaster," Hermione explained. "Everyone seems to leave him alone now that they know he was sanctioned to kill Dumbledore."

Ginny's eyes became downcast as she thought of the fallen headmaster. "I suppose they have. It's been years now. The entire war is now just a distant memory."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Even Harry seems to be faring better. He doesn't have nightmares, you know."

"That's good," Ginny said.

"He talks about you," Hermione added, waiting for her friend's reaction.

Ginny laughed. "Hermione, Harry and I will never be anything but good friends. Don't get me wrong; he was a nice shag and the perfect person to lose my virginity to. But that's all there is to it."

"I could have gone a lifetime without knowing Harry Potter was a good shag. He's like my brother," Hermione exclaimed.

"Speaking of my brother," Ginny hedged.

Hermione shook her head. "No. It's not going to happen, nor will it ever. We're too familiar now. There's no spark."

"I suppose I'll have to accept that you will never be my sister," Ginny said with a sigh. "At least not legally, Professor Granger."

"Oh gosh, I can't believe it. I'm so nervous," Hermione said, worrying her lower lip. "McGonagall said she would help me in the first term, but after that, I'll be on my own."

"You'll be fine," Ginny said, attempting to quell her friend's worry.

They spent the rest of the morning into the afternoon chatting and catching up, and Ginny welcomed the distraction of not thinking about her newly unemployed status.

* * *

Yes, I did in fact resurrect both Fred and Snape. I couldn't help myself. So it's safe to say that this is not compliant with anything in the last book.

Questions, Comments, Complaints?


	3. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

Thanks so much for the reviews so far! Glad you all seem to be enjoying it.

* * *

The next morning dawned gray and rainy, which Ginny found to be ironic. She turned her head to the side to check the time on her clock, scowling as she registered that it was seven in the morning. She had intended to sleep late and the wine she had the night before with Hermione was meant to ensure a lie in. She sank her head back down on her pillow and stared up at the white ceiling, not knowing what she would do with her day. The minutes ticked by, and she finally decided to get out of bed, knowing that sleep would not overcome her. She felt groggy, most likely from the wine, and she crossed the room to her bathroom, turning the taps of her shower.

She went through her morning routine as usual: shower, brush teeth, comb hair, get dressed and have tea. As she stirred the tea three times, a tapping at the window alerted her to the fact that the Daily Prophet had arrived. She took a few coins from her desk drawer, her payment for the month subscription, and put it in the little pouch on the owl's leg before taking her newspaper. She gave the owl a treat before shutting her window and grabbing her wand to dry the paper. Crossing the living room, she perched herself on the stool at her counter, pulled her tea towards her and perused the Daily Prophet. Ginny liked her routine and didn't intend on stopping because she quit her job.

Nothing interesting caught her attention, minus the last bits of gossip about the Romilda Vane situation. Narcissa Malfoy had released a statement that the girl was no longer working with Malfoy International due to a breach in her contract. It wasn't stated what the breach was, but Ginny assumed it had something to do with the pregnancy or the affair with Draco. Either way, it was a foregone conclusion that Romilda would have to be fired for causing such a scandal for the Malfoy family, who, for all intents and purposes, had tried to keep out of every scandal they possibly could.

Their son, on the other hand, did not mind being splashed across the pages of the society section and gossip rags with various paramours on his arm. But Ginny couldn't say she blamed him. The women flocked to him in droves, and he was only taking what was willingly given to him.

"Hermione's right, I've forgiven the bastards," Ginny said quietly to her empty flat. She let out a sigh. "It doesn't matter."

She finished the last dregs of her tea and placed the mug in her sink, casting a few simple household charms to make the dishes wash themselves and the counters and stove glisten. Satisfied that her kitchen was tidy, she gathered her purse, warded her apartment, grabbing a hanful of Floo powder.

Tossing it in the flames, she yelled, "The Burrow."

She appeared in the sitting room of the Burrow seconds later. Clattering could be heard coming from the kitchen, and she cast a quick cleaning charm on herself to rid her clothing of soot. She stowed her wand in her purse and set it down on the couch before moving into the kitchen to observe her mother, who was cracking eggs into a bowl. Ginny knew it was breakfast for her father, and her stomach grumbled from lack of solid food as she inhaled the scent of fresh biscuits and fried sausage.

"Morning, Mum."

Her mother spun around, egg shell in hand with a smile on her face. "Ginny! I didn't expect to see you here this morning. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I quit," Ginny mumbled.

Molly frowned and tossed the eggshell in the sink with the rest. "Sorry, dear. I didn't quite catch that."

Ginny bit her lip. "I quit my job."

"Good heavens, Ginny," Molly said, wiping her hands on her apron. At Ginny's downtrodden expression, Molly waved her hand. "Let's not worry about that now. Come help me with breakfast. I'm running a little behind. Ron's home."

"Ron's home? I thought it was just Hermione," Ginny said, grabbing an apron from the hook and sliding it over her head. "When did he get here?"

"Late last night," Molly said, going back to cracking the eggs. "He and Harry surprised your father and me. Come and mix up these eggs and add a bit of seasoning."

Ginny set about the task. "Harry's here too?"

"Yes. Poor dears, they were exhausted from the international Apparition. They didn't even eat before they went to bed." Molly tutted. "Skin and bones those two. I can bet Hermione isn't faring any better. I hope they'll be settling down soon."

"If it isn't my two favorite ladies."

Ginny paused her work to give her dad a hug. "Morning, Dad."

Arthur's eyes flickered to the clock. "I thought you worked early."

"Oh, don't you badger her, Arthur. The tea is on the table." Molly waved her spatula at her husband as she removed the sausage from the flames. "She quit her job, and I'm sure she has an excellent reason for it."

Arthur patted down his red hair, which was now streaked with gray. "Alright then, Gin. What's the reason?"

"They wanted me to work for Lucius Malfoy," Ginny said softly, turning her back to mix the eggs. "I didn't want to do it and so I quit."

"Lucius Malfoy? Head of Malfoy International?" Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, and he walked to the table and sat down. "Ginny, you already work for Lucius."

"Yes but not _directly_," Ginny said, stressing her words as she stared at the yellow goop in the bowl. "I would be seeing the man every single day."

Molly added some extra salt to her mixture and took the bowl from her. "So they wanted to promote you, and you quit?"

When her mother put it that way, it seemed both rash and stupid. "I didn't—I guess so."

"You're out of work now then?" Her father cast her a sympathetic gaze. "Do you know what you're going to do?"

Ginny shook her head sullenly, leaning against the counter. "No, I haven't given it much thought yet. I don't know where my skills as a personal assistant would be useful."

"You'll figure it out, Ginny." Molly patted her arm before moving to the stove to scramble the eggs. "You can always move home if need be."

She closed her eyes and prayed it wouldn't come to that awful end. But she didn't want to seem ungrateful so she said, "Thanks, Mum."

"I'll ask around the Ministry," Arthur said reassuringly. "Maybe someone could use a secretary."

Ginny nodded, knowing that secretaries at the Ministry were paid very little. "I hope so."

"Clean up that mess in the sink while you're standing there, Ginny," Molly ordered.

Ginny threw out the empty eggshells and began hand washing the dishes. By the time she had washed the three bowls, cup, and saucer in the sink, a breakfast spread was set out on the table, and Ron, no doubt smelling the food, was slowly coming down the steps. He rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and yawned, spotting Ginny and giving her a grin.

"You don't cook at home, Ginny?"

"Git," Ginny muttered. She crossed the room and embraced her brother. "I've missed you, you big prat."

Ron laughed. "Love you too, Ginny."

"Ron, go wake Harry for breakfast," Molly instructed. "We might as well all be up."

"I just came down," Ron exclaimed.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll go."

Ginny took off up the steps, going to Bill's old room. The door was cracked, and she peeked inside to see Harry asleep on the bed. His hair was sticking at odd ends, and she could make out the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He was lying on his stomach, head pillowed on his hand and sheets tossed about him. He looked so peaceful, and she had to smile at that. He had finally found some peace in his life, and Ginny couldn't be happier for him.

Green eyes groggily opened and spotted her, a sleepy smile on his face. "Ginny?"

"Hi, Harry." Ginny watched as he put on his glasses, his eyes no doubt adjusting to the cleared vision. "Mum says it's time for breakfast."

He sniffed and grinned. "Smells like it."

Harry stretched and got out of the bed, pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. He pulled her into a warm embrace, and she snuggled into him. It had been a longtime since she had seen Harry and longer since she had any male interaction in a bedroom. She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the softness of his shirt against her skin. She had meant what she said to Hermione. They weren't meant to be, her and Harry. There was a friendship between them, but it didn't go any farther. There wasn't a spark to be found between them. Sometimes she wished she could fake it, but she knew that Harry deserved more than a flat relationship, as did she.

"How are you?" she mumbled.

"I'm good." He let her go and ruffled his hair. "You?"

"Quit my job," she said wryly. "Other from that, I'm peachy."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Your last letter said how much you liked your boss and were learning about the real estate industry."

"That was before Lucius Malfoy decided he wanted to hire me," Ginny said, crossing her arms.

"Uh, Gin, don't you already work for him?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "It's his company."

"I thought you at least would understand," Ginny said, annoyed. She shook her head. "Come on, breakfast is ready. Mum will come up in a second to make sure we're not shagging like rabbits."

Harry's cheeks tinged pink. "Ginny!"

Ginny laughed and left the room, not waiting for Harry to perform his morning routine. She descended the steps and took a seat at the table, happily dishing out her share of food. She did love the freedom of having her own flat, but she also missed her mother's cooking. Ginny wasn't exactly an idiot when it came to cooking, but she certainly didn't hold a candle to her mother's feasts, partially because she never had the time. On more than one occasion, she had to eat instant meals because she didn't have enough time to cook a meal, whether it be because of sleepiness or the fact that she was in a rush to get to work.

Harry sat down at the table a few minutes later, striking up conversation with Arthur. "How are things at the Ministry?"

"Very quiet and manageable," Arthur replied.

Ginny smiled around her bite of toast. Her father had been asked to be one of the Wizengamot members and accepted. After the war, he was needed to help on the jury, the family's position in the war bringing him honorable status. It came with both prestige and a pay raise, but nothing had changed about the Weasley family. She didn't know what her parents did with the money, although Molly had been sporting a few new robes whenever Ginny saw her. It would be just like her dad to spend money on her mum and nothing else.

"So no more trials?" asked Harry.

"A few but most are unrelated to the war," Arthur said, cutting up his sausage. "It truly is a more peaceful Britain."

Harry and Ron both shared looks, and Ginny poked her brother with a spoon. "What's that about?"

"What?" Ron asked, cheeks red.

"You two have something to say," Ginny prodded, eyes dancing between Ron and Harry. "So what's the big secret?"

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Could never keep a secret from you. I'm moving back."

Molly let out a shrill sound of excitement, her gaze falling to Ron. "You too?"

"Sort of," Ron said, quickly adding, "I mean yea."

"What does that even mean?" Ginny shot her brother a confused look.

"Well, I'd been keeping a journal while we were away—"

"Really?" Ginny hid a giggle at the thought of Ron writing in a journal.

"Yes," Ron said with a glare. He cleared his throat. "I wrote mostly about the places we'd been to and some of the Quidditch matches we saw. Hermione took something I wrote and sent it to the Daily Prophet, and they hired me as their Quidditch correspondent."

"Congratulations, son," Arthur said, beaming. "It'll be good to have you home."

"Yea, well there'll be traveling required, but I'm home a lot more," Ron said.

Molly clapped her hands together. "This is exciting news. What about you, Harry dear?"

Harry shrugged. "Not sure yet. I have a few offers on the table. They want me to train to be an Auror, but I've had my share of the fighting. I was thinking of accepting Puddlemere United's offer to be a reserve seeker."

"You wouldn't be playing on the reserves for long," Ginny said with a grin. "The famous Harry Potter on Puddlemere United? Deverill would be silly to not put you in the game."

"Thanks, Gin," Harry said.

"All this good news makes me want to skip work," Arthur said brightly. "But I've got a job to do."

"Bye, dear." Molly kissed her husband on the cheek and turned to the occupants of the table. "Dinner tonight in celebration?"

"I have nothing better to do," Ginny said, shrugging.

"Good," Molly said, patting Arthur's chest. "Try and be home on time."

"I'll do my best," Arthur said obligingly. He waved to everyone else. "I will see you later."

"Bye, Dad," Ginny called as he disappeared in the Floo. She turned her attentions to Harry and Ron. "What are the two of you up to today?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Molly. "Well, I was hoping to do a bit of flat hunting."

Ginny watched in anticipation as her mother frowned, waiting for the blow up. Molly hated the idea of anyone leaving the Burrow and had, no doubt, been thinking that Harry and Ron would be spending their time at the Burrow. Harry had long since moved his things into the Burrow since he wasn't home often. He didn't plan on staying at the Dursley's, and paying for a flat that he rarely used was pointless. So Molly had all but forced him to move in, and he had become her eighth child.

"I suppose that's the sensible thing to do," Molly said after a moment of hesitation. "And you, Ron?"

"Yea, we were planning on rooming together," he said, mouth slightly open.

"That's it? No speech about your babies leaving?" Ginny gaped at her mother in surprise.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Ron and Harry are hardly babies, Ginny."

"But when I left you almost restrained me to a chair," Ginny said in disbelief.

"Well, your father and I have gotten used to a bit of peace and quiet. Besides, your father told me that if I didn't allow you to fly the nest, none of you would get married." She shot Ginny a pointed look. "I intend on having grandchildren."

"More grandchildren, you mean," Ginny breathed, shaking her head.

"We were hoping you'd help us, Gin," Ron said, saving his sister from Molly's speech about marriage. "You know, you work with this stuff."

"Worked, as in past tense," Ginny said glumly. "I quit."

Ron frowned. "Why?"

"Lucius Malfoy wanted me to work for him," Ginny said, sighing. She was tired of constantly repeating herself.

"Gin, I don't like the Malfoys or anything, and I'm happy you're not working for them." He scratched his chin and shot her a quizzical expression. "But weren't you already working for him?"

Ginny readied herself to launch into a tirade but shook her head. "I can't be bothered. Suffice it to say, I'm now unemployed. I said some harsh things to him during my interview, and I doubt he wants me working for him anymore."

Ron patted her back awkwardly. "I'm sure you'll find something."

"Can you still help us?" asked Harry, swiftly changing the subject.

Ginny nodded. "I can write Magnolia and tell her to expect two new clients. She'll be happy to add the Boy Who Lived to her portfolio."

"Funny," Harry said, though amusement danced in his eyes. "But I thought you could help?"

"I can," Ginny said. "But Magnolia would have the list of available properties. You can find some in the Prophet, but the nicer ones are generally not advertised to the public."

Harry nodded. "You'll come with us though?"

Ginny repeated herself from earlier. "I don't have anything else to do."

* * *

Later that day, Ginny, Harry and Ron Apparated to the Golden Coral, a restaurant that catered to the elite society. Ginny led them inside, familiar with the surroundings due to her work with Magnolia, and waved to the hostess, who immediately led them to a booth in the back. Magnolia was already there, a folder in front of her as she leafed through a few images. When they stood by the booth, she greeted them warmly, giving Ginny a tight squeeze before they all sat down.

"Shall we order first?" asked Magnolia, neatly placing all the papers back into her folder. "I'm quite hungry."

"I can—"

"You're not my assistant anymore, Ginny," Magnolia said with a smile, waving the waitress over. "I'll have my usual order."

"Yes, Lady Flint," the waitress replied. She turned to Ginny. "Yours as well?"

Ginny nodded, glancing at the boys, who were still perusing the menu. "They'll both have the filet with the garlic mashed potatoes, gravy on the side."

The waitress nodded. "To drink?"

"Chilled Butterbeer," Ginny supplied, patting Ron's arm. "It's good. Trust me."

"Ginny does have quite the refined palette," Magnolia agreed.

Ginny smiled in thanks. "Allow me to do the introductions. Magnolia, this is my brother, Ronald Weasley and family friend, Harry Potter."

"It is lovely to meet you both," Magnolia said. "As per Ginny's request, I'll be handling your case personally. I usually don't deal with the smaller residential matters, but I can make an exception since Ginny is a great friend."

"Thank you," Harry said politely.

"Now will you be looking to buy or rent?" asked Magnolia, pulling out her journal. Ginny felt a pang, knowing that used to be her job. "It will help narrow down the choices."

"Rent," Ron said.

"Do you have a preference as to the location?" Magnolia clasped her hands together. "I do have the ability to procure some Muggle apartment buildings if that is your ideal location."

"No, no, definitely Wizarding," Ron said.

"Are there any places that are a mix of both?" asked Harry hesitantly.

"I have a few, but that narrows down your choices exponentially." Magnolia scribbled something down in her journal. "We can go look at some today, after lunch."

"That would be great," Harry said.

"How many bedrooms?" asked Magnolia.

"Two," Harry said.

"Separate kitchen and dining?"

Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances, and Ginny shook her head. "It would be a nice bonus, but they don't necessarily need it."

Magnolia smiled and nodded. "Bathrooms?"

"Two," Ginny answered for them. "Ron is a bathroom hog."

"I am not," Ron protested.

"Something near an open field would be ideal," Ginny said, ignoring Ron. "They both like flying and Quidditch."

"Okay," Magnolia said, turning her attentions to Ginny. "Extra rooms?"

"I don't think they have much use for a study, but it couldn't hurt for when Ron has to write articles," Ginny said thoughtfully. "They'll want a spacious living room though because they're bound to have guests over."

"Any guest room needed?"

"I doubt it," Ginny said. She removed her hand from the table when the waitress came back with their food. "Thank you."

They discussed some more particulars about what Harry and Ron would need throughout lunch, and at the end, Magnolia said she had three properties that she thought would be perfect. They discussed budget, which Ginny, Ron and Harry had worked out beforehand. Ron would get a healthy sum of money weekly, and his expenses for traveling would be covered by the Daily Prophet so he didn't have to worry about that cost. With Harry's contributions as well, they were rather well off and could afford a lot more than Ginny could.

After lunch, they went to a small alcove beside the restaurant, and Magnolia tapped her wand to a square object. She instructed them all to touch it, and they were transported to the first location. Private Portkey travel was quite expensive, but it was the only way to traverse from option to option when it came to the real estate business. That was why the extra charges and fees were so large when it came to working with Malfoy International.

"We're off High Street in Hogsmeade," Magnolia said. "This is Front Street. As you can see, it's right across from Memorial Park, which would be perfect for your flying needs. The building is one of the most reputable in the neighborhood."

Ginny followed slowly behind the trio as they made their way to a cream-colored brick building with black fixtures. It was taller than the other buildings along the street but looked quite similar. The entire block was well maintained with a cobblestone street and old-fashioned lampposts. The park was lush and green, and children and adults could be seen lounging around and playing. She entered the building and found herself impressed with the polished staircase and marble tiled lobby.

"It's a second floor apartment with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, separate kitchen and dining, a study and a spacious living area." Magnolia ascended the steps, and they all followed. She brandished her hand along the hall. "As you can see, you'll have the entire floor to yourselves. There are six floors, each with their own apartment."

"Nice," Ginny whispered when Magnolia opened the door. "Wood floors are easy to clean."

The apartment was beautiful, but she could see that both Ron and Harry didn't seem to enjoy it as much. It would have been ideal for her because she loved the view and bright airiness. But she quickly shook her head at Magnolia as they walked through the rooms, and Magnolia nodded in understanding. She led them out of the flat and back to the street where they Portkeyed to the next location.

Ginny knew the minute they landed that this would be the place. They were still in Hogsmeade, a few streets down from the park and the Three Broomsticks. It was closer to her flat and on a street that looked less like something out of a magazine. The street was still cobblestone, but the building they entered did not look elite, blending in with the others on the street. Inside of the building was plain with hardwood floors and a slightly creaky staircase.

The flat was still nice with hardwood floors and a spacious setting. It was a shared dining and kitchen and opened up into the living area, which resembled Ginny's apartment. The bedrooms were spacious with a decent amount of closet space, enough for Ron and Harry, who didn't own a lot of clothing. The bathrooms were clean and plain with blue and white tiling. But the best thing was that the building was at the end of the street and was afforded the opportunity of having an open field next to it.

"Should I even bother with the next one?" Magnolia asked with a smile.

"I don't think so." Ginny followed them to the kitchen where Magnolia withdrew the paperwork.

"Gin, can you—"

Ginny didn't hesitate to read through the contract. "It's a standard agreement. Sign on the dotted line boys."

Harry and Ron both signed and made an arrangement for the security deposit when their offer was approved as well as Magnolia's payment. They said goodbye to Magnolia, and Ginny invited Ron and Harry to her flat. They accepted, and the pair walked to her flat, which was a short walk away. When they entered, she dropped her keys, which she rarely used, in the basket by the entrance.

Her flat wasn't amazing, but she had furnished it to her tastes. It had a homely feel to it: soft blue sofas and light wood furniture that matched the hardwood floors. She had a writing desk to the left of the window, her supplies neatly lined up on it. There was a bookshelf to the right of the window, filled with her favorite novels as well as some gifts from Hermione. She didn't have room for a dining table, so settled for barstools by her counter. One door led to her bathroom and the other to her bedroom.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Ginny said jokingly. She placed her purse on the coffee table. "Make yourself at home. There are drinks in the ice box, and I think there's a Quidditch match set to come on."

She walked to the window by her desk and opened it, scooping out the letters. She left the window open, allowing a cool breeze to sweep into her flat. Harry and Ron were already eating chips and cracking open bottles of Butterbeer, the sound of the Wireless filling her small apartment. She leafed through the letters in her hand, shocked to find a letter with the Malfoy International seal and address on it. She wondered if it was the outline of her severance package, although she didn't think she would get once since she quit.

"Oi, we should invite Hermione," Ron said, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

"You'll have to Floo her or send a Patronus," Ginny said idly, turning the envelope over in her hand. "I don't have an owl."

"Why not?" Harry sipped his drink. "Shouldn't everyone have one?"

"I always use the office owl if I need to send any letters," Ginny said.

Harry cast a Patronus. "Hermione, come over to Ginny's."

She cracked open the seal and withdrew the letter, her eyebrows slamming together at the missive.

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_After reviewing our meeting from earlier, I believe I have a few things that I must, unfortunately, apologize for, the first being the incident in your first year. It would be easy for me to do as you preemptively accused me of doing earlier and say that I did not know what would happen. However, I did know, perhaps not the extent of the damage that would be wrought. But I suppose that has always been a problem that I had. So for the grievous error I made in putting that much evil into the hands of an eleven year old, I am sorry. I know it will not make up for what happened, but I feel it needs to be written._

_As for my earlier dismissal of your reasoning, I must apologize as well. I, again, did not realize the extent of which your first year had affected you. You must forgive me for assuming that children bounce back so easily from such experiences._

_I am extending my offer of employment from earlier. If you would consider and accept the position to become my personal assistant, I am willing to increase your pay to three hundred and fifty Galleons a week._

_I hope this letter reaches you in better temperament than you were earlier._

_Lucius Malfoy_

"The git has the money," Ginny muttered.

"What's that, Ginny?" Ron looked up at her.

"Er, Lucius Malfoy is offering me the job again with a substantial pay increase," Ginny said, rereading the letter.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked curiously.

"I think—I think I'm going to take it," Ginny said, her eyes dancing across the pay number. "It would be insane to turn this down. But I'll talk to Hermione first."

Forty-five minutes later, after Ginny, Harry and Ron were engrossed in the game, Hermione knocked on the door, and Ginny got it. The two girls disappeared in the bedroom to talk and left the boys outside. Ten minutes later, at Hermione's insistence and convincing, Ginny wrote a carefully worded letter to Lucius Malfoy, accepting the position to be his personal assistant. She desperately hoped she was making the right decision.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed!


	4. First Day Jitters

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

Ginny nervously twisted her hands, staring at her reflection in the back wall of the lift. She had chosen the best work outfit she owned: black trousers with a white blouse, a gray sweater over it. She had even put on a pair of small kitten heels for the occasion. It had been odd to hear the clicking of her heels in the marble lobby, but she also thought, for the first day at least, she should try and look as professional as possible. The lift doors slid open, and she strolled past the receptionist's desk, ignoring the sneer that the receptionist shot her way, and walked to Lucius's office. He had told her to arrive at nine, and her watch told her it was a quarter to eight. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the double doors, her eyes falling on Lucius's open door.

He looked up from his desk and beckoned her forward. "Miss Weasley, come in."

Hesitantly, she stepped into his office, hearing the click of the double doors inside her. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Have a seat," Lucius directed, unfurling a piece of parchment. "Before we begin with my expectations, I would like for you to sign this contract."

"Contract, sir?" Ginny was wary of signing anything from Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius's lips curled into a sneer. "Yes, a contract. I have, in the past, dealt with a few distasteful assistants. To ensure that I don't run into problems, I have a contract for my assistants. With every assistant I fire, there seems to come a new clause."

Ginny carefully examined the contract. There was a section about privacy and the consequences of revealing anything discussed with Lucius. She expected as much. The other clauses seemed rather natural, considering the fact that the Malfoys weren't a well thought of family. She scowled as she read the clause stating that if she were to get pregnant, he had the option of letting her go. It was certainly discriminatory but not illegal in the Wizarding World—and Ginny knew that must have been how he was able to fire Romilda. As she read over the last clause, which seemed to be written in fresh ink, Ginny balked.

"I assure you that I have no intentions of sleeping with Malfoy," Ginny snapped.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Malfoy? I'm assuming you mean Draco, and not myself or Narcissa."

"I am not going to sleep with your son." Ginny held the contract as if it were a piece of garbage she would rather not touch. "I am sure that you are aware the two of us do not get along."

"Do not underestimate my son's charms or looks," Lucius said, his eyes raking over her. "Though you are certainly not my son's type—not in style nor looks."

Ginny didn't know whether to be offended or thankful. She settled with the latter. "I am happy to hear it."

"Indeed," Lucius said, amusement written across his face. "Then you have no issues with signing the contract."

"Hand me the quill," Ginny demanded, leaning forward to take the quill and dip it in the inkwell. She had half-expected Lucius to ask her to sign it in blood. With a flourish of her hand, her signature appeared on the dotted line. "There."

"Wonderful," Lucius said. His gray eyes glittered, and Ginny felt as if she had signed over a piece of her soul, which made her rather uncomfortable. "Now to get down to business."

"Yes, sir. I can tell you—"

"Miss Weasley, I will be the one speaking for the next few minutes. Do not interrupt me," Lucius said, his face a blank mask. "I am here every morning at eight. I expect you to be here when I arrive. Unless asked, I do not wish to have tea or breakfast here upon arrival. I prefer to dine with my wife."

Ginny thought that seemed uncharacteristic of Lucius Malfoy.

"You will find an appointment book on your desk. I have an exact copy and anything you write in it, appears in my copy, vice versa. There is an inbox on your desk in which all my letters appear. You are responsible for sorting through them," Lucius said. He paused and held up a black journal. "This is my copy of the journal. On the front, you will see that my initials are written in silver. When you update my appointments, it will glow green until I open the book – and cancelled appointments will be in red. Yellow means I have yet to confirm the appointment."

Ginny thought it was quite ingenious, though she felt strange about writing in another enchanted journal given to her by Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius seemed to read her thoughts. "I assure you that nothing has been done to the journal, Miss Weasley. I will also cover any expenses you should incur to have the book checked for any dark magic."

"My brother is a curse breaker. It costs me nothing," Ginny said without thinking.

"Indeed," Lucius said with an amused smirk. "Your book is more feminine and not black. I thought it prudent that you not be reminded of—"

"Thank you," Ginny said, cutting him off. "That wasn't necessary."

"The same charm is set on your book. Your initials will glow as well for any changes. The first page of the book is my way of communicating with you without the nuisance of an owl." Lucius opened his book and showed her a stark white page, unlike the other eggshell colored pages in his appointment book. "Should I need to contact you, I will write my message in the book. It will appear on the front cover of your book, and your book will also vibrate. There is a charm written in the back of the book to change the setting if you would prefer for it to warm to the touch, make a noise or any other warning sign."

Ginny nodded, processing all the information she was told.

"You will attend meetings with me. I do not require you to take notes, but I do require that you pay attention. I have an excellent memory, and I do not need an assistant's help to recount a meeting, especially when I have a Pensive at my disposal." Lucius steepled his fingers as if thinking about what else he needed to tell her. "You will also come to events with me: parties, functions, balls, galas. If I am not at the office or at home, Miss Weasley, you will most likely be required to be at my side."

She didn't know how she felt about that particular rule but knew there was nothing to be done. She had signed the contract. She needed to see it through.

"The company is not called Malfoy International for naught. I do a great deal of traveling, and you will travel with me. Travel expenses are covered by the company, of course," Lucius said, the last part added more as an after thought. "Miss Weasley, this position is more work than your previous one, but I trust that you have the capabilities to meet my needs."

She did not like the sound of that at all. The innuendo was clear, intended or not.

"You will be working long hours as well, which is why you are paid substantially," Lucius said. He paused, letting his words sink in, before he asked, "Do you have any questions?"

Many were swirling around in her head, but the first from her lips were, "Personal letters, sir. Ma—Ms. Flint preferred to open her own personal letters. You said earlier that I was to open all letters. Does that include your personal letters?"

Lucius nodded. "You're not merely my assistant, Miss Weasley. You are my _personal_ assistant. You will be dealing with far more than simply office nuisances. My wife and son know not to write anything of interest in a letter to my office and are more than likely writing to schedule a lunch or dinner."

Ginny thought that was quite sad.

"So to answer your question, yes. I do require that you open all my letters. If it is the case that the letter is from Narcissa and Draco, you may come in and speak to me about it," Lucius said. "Which is what I expect you to do concerning any appointments."

"These functions—"

"Are non-negotiable." Lucius smirked when she slumped a little in her seat. "I often discuss work matters and schedule appointments at these functions. I've been told that they can be pleasant for girls."

"Who like frills and thrills," Ginny added. "I am not one of those."

His lips twisted in something that resembled a smile, although it was sinister. "I believe that should be all for now Miss Weasley. You may have a few moments to get acquainted with your work area."

Knowing that she was being dismissed, she stood and exited his office, moving towards the desk. She sat in the chair, staring straight across at the windowed wall that afforded her a view of Diagon Alley. The chair was comfortable and seemed to adjust to her frame. Two bins sat at the top left of the desk, one marked out the other in. Opening the drawers, she found parchment, envelopes, a copy of the seal and various other stationary. She ran her hands across the smooth wood of the desk, much nicer than her old one, and bumped into her copy of the appointment book.

It was, as Lucius had said, more feminine than his. It was a deep purple color with her initial in silver at the bottom right corner. She opened the book, flipping through the pages, which were silver in color, barring the first page. They were filled with purple inked writings: Lucius's current appointments. She noticed that the pages in the back were for notes and wondered if writing in there would copy to Lucius's book. Checking the instructions page, she noted that it would not be. She picked up the quill and scribbled across the page, confirming her suspicion that she didn't need ink to write in the book.

According to the appointment book, he had a lunch meeting with the head of the Nimbus Broom Racing Company, an interview with the Daily Prophet and an appointment with no name nor location listed, simply a time. She was curious about that one but didn't have much time to think about it since she was being called into his office. She stood, grabbed the book and quill—a habit from working with Magnolia—and entered his office.

"Make a reservation at the Golden Coral for the lunch meeting today." Lucius shuffled leaves of parchments around on his desk. "I need to see Darren from the finance department immediately. Get someone from PR up here so that I can discuss the interview with the Prophet. You'll need to be in here for that discussion. And make arrangements for a Portkey to Dijon this evening at five. We will be dining there this evening while I take care of some business. Find a suitable restaurant, nothing plebeian."

"Dijon?" Ginny said, her voice sounding a bit squeaky as she paused in her writing. "As in France?"

Lucius looked up from his desk. "Is that a problem, Miss Weasley? Did you have other arrangements that take precedence over your work?"

"Of course not, sir," Ginny said warily.

"I thought not," Lucius replied with a clipped tone. "Procure two return Portkeys: one to Malfoy Manor and the other to your place of residence."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said, turning on her heel and exiting the room.

She took care of the interoffice memos first, hoping that the outbox worked the same as Magnolia's. Interoffice letters would appear on the person's desk rather than fluttering around the office building like in the Ministry. Any outside correspondences would be sent to the owlery to be sent off, although, judging by the perch on the other side of the room, Lucius had his own owl. She hastily wrote down a time for the Golden Coral and walked across the room to the perch.

The owl wasn't there, and she didn't see any windows to open. But as soon as she appeared, she could see a white blob in the distance flying towards her. She held up her hands to stop the owl from running in the window and let out a shrill scream, expecting the owl to splatter against it. But it didn't. Instead, it came straight through a section of the glass, which shimmered, and Ginny's cheeks turned bright red as Lucius entered the outer office.

"Miss Weasley, while I find it highly amusing that you are startled by magic tricks, considering you are a witch, you are disturbing my work and scaring Annabelle," Lucius said calmly before turning and going back into his office.

"Annabelle?" Ginny whispered. The owl shook her white feathers, nipping at Ginny's fingers. "I suppose it's a pretty name."

She watched Annabelle flutter away with the letter clasped in her talons before going back to her desk, reading back through her notes to see what needed to be done. Luckily, she knew how to deal with the Portkey arrangements, although she had no idea what to do about restaurants in Dijon, having never been there. She wrote down the instructions for the Portkey and dropped it in the outbox to be delivered to their transportation department, trying to figure out what to do about the restaurant.

Ginny wished someone had been there to train her. She opened desk drawers, searching for anything that would help her. She found old copies of Witch's Weekly in one drawer, a copy of Rita Skeeter's autobiography and another held a Muggle make-up kit. Romilda had not cleaned out her drawers, it seemed. Ginny removed her wand and levitated the old magazines to the trash, quickly followed by the autobiography and the make-up.

Annabelle chose that moment to fly in and drop a letter on her desk before flying back to her gilded perch. The appointment for Golden Coral was confirmed, and she sent a letter to Samuel Nimbus with the time and location for lunch. That settled, she still had no idea about places to eat in Dijon. It wasn't until she was on the verge of ripping her hair out that she realized they had a transportation department. Surely there was someone in the department who knew about the places for which they were required to procure Portkeys. Ginny wrote a quick missive and dropped it in her outbox.

Gathering all the letters in the inbox, she started to sort through them. Her mind reeled at the amount of invitations that Lucius Malfoy received in one day. As she began to catalogue the invitations and requests for meetings, two people walked into the office. She assumed that the man was Darren from the finance department and the other was a woman from PR.

"Miss Weasley, a word," Lucius called.

"Please wait here," Ginny said politely.

"Shut the door," Lucius ordered as she stepped in the office.

She closed the door behind her. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Are you under the impression that I am two people?"

Ginny thought the question was rhetorical but answered anyway. "No, sir."

"Then why would I be able to correspond with two different people about two different matters at the same time?" Lucius's voice was low and calm. "I fail to see how that makes any sense."

"But—"

"I do not wish to hear your excuses," Lucius said with a raised hand. "I will see Darren first—alone."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny bit out, feeling like a child who was just scolded.

"Are you waiting for an invitation to leave?"

She hurried out of the office and faced the man. "Mr. Malfoy will see you now."

"You're the new assistant," the woman said after Lucius's door was shut. Her tone was incredulous. "I find that hard to believe."

Ginny's jaw ticked, and she did not respond.

"Lucius usually picks pretty girls." Ginny wanted to launch herself across her desk and rip the woman's black hair out. "You're not pretty, nor do you have any sense of style. Blouses are meant to be fitted, dear. People aren't supposed to have to question your gender."

"Excuse me?" Ginny snapped.

The woman's brown eyes were familiar as she leveled them on Ginny. "Well, you're a Weasley, the only girl in fact. It makes sense that you would be confused about your gender."

It all clicked into place: the voice, the nose, those eyes. "Pansy Parkinson, mean and nasty as ever."

"It's a special talent," Pansy said idly. "What is a Weasley doing in a Slytherin's nest?"

"Slytherin's nest?" Ginny laughed quietly. "I see you haven't grown at all, Pansy. If you hadn't noticed, we're not at Hogwarts. Houses don't define us."

"Be that as it may, you are still a Weasley and a Gryffindor," Pansy remarked snidely. "You don't belong here, especially not as Lucius Malfoy's personal assistant."

Darren exited the office at the moment, his face pale, and Ginny wondered what had transpired. But she didn't think on it too long, grabbing her quill and book as she was summoned into the office along with Pansy. The two of them entered, Pansy in front of her, and Ginny stood to the side as Pansy sat down in one of the chairs. Magnolia would have told her to sit, but for some reason, she assumed Lucius would want her to remain scarce.

"Miss Weasley, I dislike this habit of having to wait on you," Lucius said, gray eyes trained on Ginny. "Should I have a house elf dust your chair for you? Is it not suitable for your limited tastes?"

Ginny couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks when Pansy snorted. "Sorry, Mr. Malfoy."

"Now then, you should know Ms. Parkinson. The two of you attended school together," Lucius said.

Ginny nodded, realizing that Lucius used Miss for her and Ms. for Pansy. It was almost as if he were saying that there was no chance that Ginny would be married or attached to someone, whereas Pansy could be. Oddly, she found herself offended by that, especially since Miss made her feel like she was a child. She brushed those thoughts aside and tuned in as Pansy and Lucius began to discuss the interview, which would be focusing on Malfoy International's branching off into women's fashion.

At the end of the meeting, Pansy fidgeted and said, "They will ask you about the more recent scandal."

"I'm a Malfoy, Ms. Parkinson. There is always a scandal," Lucius said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. "Stay, Miss Weasley."

She almost bit out, 'I'm not a pet,' but restrained herself.

"I have an office house elf. Her name is Dilly, and she can provide you with tea if needs be," Lucius remarked. "Have the arrangements been made for lunch?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, at the Golden Coral," Ginny answered.

"That's all," Lucius said.

Ginny turned and left the office, eyes bulging at the stack of mail in the inbox, which kept growing. She spent the rest of the morning attempting to sort through the letters, unsure of whether to discuss the appointments with Lucius or make them herself. At some point, she heard a soft pop coming from Lucius's office and knew it must be the house elf with tea. She had never seen the house elves cleaning before and never used them. But it was nice to know that she wouldn't be fetching tea.

* * *

The lunch meeting had been a disaster. For some reason, her reservation had been confirmed for two instead of noon, and the Golden Coral had been brimming with customers. While they had attempted to pacify Lucius, who was more upset with Ginny than the Golden Coral staff, they had not been able to make room for him. The meeting had ended up taking place at a small cafe next door that had terrible tea and burnt food. Ginny spent the entire lunch trying to ignore the icy gaze of Lucius Malfoy.

After lunch, they had returned to the office, and Lucius had not said a word to her. Somehow, she found this to be more terrifying than if he had yelled at her or threw things. She didn't like the idea that he was simply sitting inside his office, stewing. When she had to go in and inform him of the reservation at a restaurant in Dijon, he had simply nodded and said nothing.

The interview with the Daily Prophet went well, and Lucius still had not said anything to her. When a quarter to five rolled around and they were readying themselves to leave on the Portkey, Ginny had deluded herself into believing that Lucius would say nothing to her. And indeed, he did not. In fact, she found that she was receiving the silent treatment from him, which would have been comical if it didn't involve her job.

Even after they landed in a pile of mud next to an inn in Dijon, Lucius said absolutely nothing, waving his wand to clean himself off. She did the same and pulled out the directions to the restaurant that Sandra from transportation had recommended. The place was quaint and reeked of money, and Ginny was happy to know that at least one thing seemed to go right, until she realized that no one in Dijon seemed to speak English. She only knew a few words of French, mostly swear words picked up from her sister-in-law.

"Miss Weasley, I was under the impression that you spoke French, according to the resume you submitted," Lucius said with a raised eyebrow.

Ginny blushed, remembering that she had fibbed that line since she thought that it would never be needed. "Er—right, but uhm—"

"Your eloquence astonishes me," Lucius said dryly. "I shall order for us then."

The rest of the evening was spent in silence. Ginny listened to Lucius speak French as if he were a native French speaker and found herself enraptured by his voice. She never understood it when Bill said he loved to hear Fleur speak French, but she did now. There was simply something riveting about the language, and a pink tinge suffused her cheeks as she was caught staring at Lucius Malfoy. She berated herself for even thinking about how attractive he seemed, reminding herself that he was Lucius Malfoy, old enough to be her father and married. The fact that she had to remind herself of these things made her blush even more and feel slightly disgusted.

Dinner ended, and she began to wonder why they were in Dijon, other from to have dinner. Her question was soon answered when Lucius grabbed her arm and Apparated to what looked to be a farm. She screamed and ducked as a winged-horse flew overhead, almost knocking her over with its extended hooves.

"Miss Weasley, you're scaring the Abraxans," Lucius scolded.

"Er—sorry," she muttered, though she didn't know why she had to apologize when he nearly killed her. "Where are we?"

"An Abraxan farm, Miss Weasley," Lucius replied as if it were obvious. "Narcissa wishes to add some to our animal collection."

Four hours later, Ginny's Portkey landed her outside her building, and she hurried in, reeking of excrement and covered in dirt and grass. Her kitten heels had sunken in the dirt, and she tripped, landing herself in a rather large pile of Abraxan dung. When she tried to get up, she ended up standing on her fallen purse, the unmistakable sound of her wand breaking reaching her ears. Lucius made no move to help her, and she spent the rest of the evening being laughed at by the stable hands and the owner of the farm, not to mention the fact that everyone stayed away from her because of the stench.

She let herself into her apartment, dropping the pieces of her broken wand on her counter. The only thing she could think to do at the moment was to take a shower and maybe burn her clothes. She went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and stripped out of her clothing, briefly glancing at her reflection and gagging at the sight of dung in her hair.

Hopping in the shower, she thought of Lucius's parting words to her, "Should you fail to perform to my levels tomorrow, Miss Weasley, I will not hesitate to fire you." The words had been chilling to her ears, and she didn't know why she cared if he fired her. She would get a severance package. But she knew it would be because she failed, and she hated failing.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Champagne Days

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

Enjoy!

* * *

Ginny blearily looked up from her desk, wiping sleep from her eyes. She had spent majority of the night reading up on Malfoy International, and she felt like what Hermione must have felt after a night spent studying. Ginny couldn't recall ever studying as much during her time at Hogwarts as she had done the night prior. A glance at the clock told her she had a little over an hour before she was supposed to be at work. She closed the book she had used as a pillow and made her way towards the shower.

Twenty minutes later, she was stirring sugar into her tea, fully dressed and waiting for her copy of the Daily Prophet to arrive. Her research about Malfoy International made her realize how important it was to read the Daily Prophet every morning, especially the business section, which would entail the progress of not only the company but the company's competitor: Nott Industries. The two companies were in a warring battle to have the dominating stake in small businesses throughout the Wizarding world, both in Britain and overseas.

Malfoy International was a company that dealt solely with investing in companies or buying them out. They would invest a certain amount of money into a business, provide the business with the best marketing it could get, and then sit back and watch the money flow in. Of course, that didn't apply to just businesses. During her time working under Magnolia, she had seen the company purchase commercial buildings, fix them up at a small cost, considering the resources that Malfoy International had at its disposal, and sell the buildings back at an inflated price—doing the same with houses as well.

She finished her tea and did her morning cleaning before pulling a black robe out of her coat closet. Wizarding style now leaned more towards a melding of the traditional robes and Muggle attire. Robes and cloaks were now made in a light material to prevent from overheating, although the thicker cloaks and robes felt nice to wear during the wintertime. She folded the cloak and slipped it into her purse, her mind on yesterday's debacle. While the weather in Dijon hadn't been too cold, a cloak would have gone a long way, especially after she fallen into the horse excrement. She shuddered at the thought.

The day before had been a horror, and Ginny had chalked it up to her nerves. She hadn't been giving an appropriate amount of time to adjust to her new environment and learn the ropes so to speak. But she certainly planned on amending it. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't know what hit him when he arrived into the office. Ginny was back in her comfortable attire, a simple cardigan, a blouse and trousers as well as _flat_ shoes. The heels hadn't given her any sort of confidence, and she had promptly burned them, along with the rest of her clothes, as soon as she had gotten out the shower.

Picking up some Floo powder, she tossed it into the fire, calling out, "Malfoy International."

She landed in the Floo lobby and took the lifts up to her floor, the entire place eerily silent. It wasn't until she reached inside her office and grappled for her wand that she realized it wasn't there. She had broken it the day before, and the pieces were in her flat. She cursed herself for not remembering as she walked across the room and attempted to pull the drapes back. She could have sworn that Annabelle was laughing at her as she heaved under the effort. It was clear that the drapes were too heavy for her to pull, and she resisted the urge to kick the window in frustration.

Her day was not starting off right at all. First, she had no wand. Now, she couldn't even perform a menial task such as pulling curtains back. Today was supposed to be her day that she proved to Lucius Malfoy she deserved the job and the raise. But she was already mucking things up. With a groan, she pressed her hands to her face, wondering if maybe she wasn't prepared for the job. Perhaps Lucius Malfoy would be right in letting her go.

Just as her thoughts began to turn negative, a 'pop' sounded in the room.

"Er, hi," Ginny said to the house elf, who was clothed in a tiny apron. "Who are you?"

"I is Dilly, Miss," the house elf replied, standing tall.

"More confident than other elves," Ginny muttered. She shook off those thoughts and cleared her throat. "Could you—the drapes are stuck."

"Drapes respond to magic, Miss." Dilly snapped her fingers and the drapes flew back, the light streaming in. "Dilly make tea for Master Lucius. Will Miss be needing something from Dilly?"

"No, thank you," Ginny replied, watching the house elf's eyes widen.

Ginny sat behind her desk and began to properly sort through the mail. If Lucius wanted to see her take initiative, then she would. Quickly, she began to fill in the appointment book with meetings that she thought were important such as the meeting with the board members—apparently, Lucius's company had investors as well. She wrote in lunch with Narcissa as a letter from her assistant popped into the inbox. By the time Lucius walked into the office, Ginny had filled in his schedule for the week and was making some headway on sorting through the invitations to various events.

"Miss Weasley, my office, now," Lucius said as he stalked past her and into his office.

Ginny groaned, realizing that he might be perturbed by her schedule for him. The entries in her book were yellow, which Ginny had taken to mean that they needed to be approved first. She gathered her wits, grabbed her journal, and moved into the office. Lucius was already sitting behind his desk, and Dilly had popped in to place a cup of tea on the side of his desk. Ginny waited patiently for him to speak, watching as he methodically dropped a cube of sugar in his tea and stirred it.

"I see you have been hard at work this morning," Lucius said, clinking the spoon against the saucer as he set it down. "I seem to have a much busier schedule than I did before I left work yesterday evening."

"I started by putting in the appointments that I thought to be important." Ginny attempted not to fidget as her nerves began to overtake her.

"The board meeting, who requested it?" asked Lucius.

"Darius Harper," Ginny said, checking her notes. "He wanted to discuss the Nimbus Broom Racing Company progress."

"There isn't much progress to be spoken of after yesterday's debacle," Lucius said, his eyes fixated on Ginny. "I see Nimbus has been scheduled for a meeting tomorrow morning. I will need that to be moved to this evening if the board meeting is scheduled for lunch tomorrow."

Ginny nodded, though she didn't know how she would achieve that task. "Yes, sir."

"Also, Carmen Zabini?"

"She wants to have a meeting with you tomorrow morning but did not state why," Ginny replied. "I thought perhaps this fell under personal."

Lucius looked up, his eyebrow raised. "Personal? Miss Weasley, I would choose your words carefully when speaking to me."

Suddenly, Ginny realized what she might have implied, and though it had crossed her mind, she didn't mean to say that Lucius Malfoy was having an affair with Carmen Zabini. She quickly reddened and scrambled to cover her mistake. "I didn't—that wasn't what I meant. I just though that since Zabini and Malfoy, Draco that is, were friends in school—"

"Enough," Lucius said, cutting off her ramble. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Weasley, I do not force my friends' children on my son, nor does he force his friends or their parents on me."

"Of course, sir," Ginny replied, doing her best not to look down in embarrassment.

"That being said, any appointments that Ms. Zabini requests should be canceled and, for future reference, never scheduled. She is on the market for husband number six—I believe it is six or possibly seven. As attractive as Carmen is, I find my wife's natural beauty to be far more appealing."

Ginny quickly crossed off Carmen Zabini's name, a small smile on her lips at Lucius's admission. "No Carmen Zabini."

"You will make arrangements for a catered lunch tomorrow. I will not suffer anymore mistakes, Miss Weasley." Lucius sipped his tea and ran a finger down his schedule. "The rest of this seems to be in order."

Ginny plucked the invitations that she had stuffed into her journal, leafing through them. "You have several requests for events. There is one for the Parkinson Gala, the French Ministry's Benefit for Underprivileged Witches and Wizards, the Swiss Business Conference, the Nott Luncheon for Hope, and the Zabini Fundraiser, for which the cause is unknown."

Lucius smirked. "No one ever knows where their money goes after paying for a spot at the Zabini Fundraiser. Nonetheless, it is an important event. The request for the donation should be processed through our finance department and confirm our attendance."

"Okay and the rest? The Swiss Business Conference is requesting that you speak at one of the events," Ginny said.

"Yes, they usually do, and I make a small speech. I will need you to plan for the weekend, including our hotel reservations and travel arrangements," Lucius said plainly.

"Our?"

"Yes, you are to attend with Narcissa and myself. My son will be in attendance also. You may as well make the arrangements for him since he rotates assistants, none of which are competent." Lucius finished his tea and nodded. "The French Ministry's Benefit is preceded by a luncheon and seminar the day before so that will be a weekend as well. Again, arrangements need to be made. We will attend the Nott Luncheon for Hope. And I will be going to the Parkinson Gala with my wife so you need not attend. But I will need you to RSVP."

"Will I be needed for the Zabini Fundraiser?" asked Ginny, fervently hoping it was a no.

"Indeed, although Narcissa will be with me as well. But it is an affair that attracts some of the deepest pockets in the world, and our business can never have too many investors." Lucius flipped open the Daily Prophet, his eyes never leaving it as he said, "That is all, Miss Weasley."

Ginny snapped her journal shut and left the office, sitting behind her desk. She made the changes to the schedule and sent off notices to the appropriate people about the meetings. Her note to Carmen Zabini was respectful as she said that Lucius would be in a pressing engagement in the morning. She also had to request information from the transportation department about hotels in Paris and in Zurich, the Wizarding parts, as she tried to plan out the schedule for both events.

She barely finished the arrangements for Paris when she was called back into Lucius's office. She dug through the parchments and brochures on her desk to find her book, her eyes glancing at the clock to see that it was bordering on the lunch hour. She never planned trips for Magnolia and had no experience with booking hotels, nor did she know which hotels would be appropriate for Lucius Malfoy. She desperately wished someone had compiled a list of hotels and rated them. Ginny catalogued the idea and reminded herself to mention something to the people in the transportation department.

Hurrying into the room, she flipped open her book. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"If you haven't checked the schedule for this weekend, which I would hope you have, you will see that we are to attend the Society for Distressed Witches Fundraiser Saturday evening." Lucius took out a fresh sheaf of parchment and began to write a message on it. "Yes, Miss Weasley, I said we. My wife will not be in attendance as she has a previous engagement. It's Paris Fashion week, and she would like to check in to her hotel Saturday night."

Ginny had no idea what Fashion Week was and wrote it down in her notes to look up. "Uhm, Mr. Malfoy, I've never had to attend—I mean Magnolia never made any appearances at the events, not with me at least."

"I am well aware of your inexperience in upper society, Miss Weasley." He folded the parchment and slipped it in an envelope, writing a name across the front. "I need you to send this to my wife immediately."

"Yes, sir." Ginny took the envelope from him, hesitating before she spoke. "What does one—"

"In due time, Miss Weasley," Lucius said with a raised hand. "I also need you clear your afternoon schedule and cancel my lunch reservation with Narcissa."

"Okay," Ginny said, slightly confused.

"Get me a copy of the Gladrags projection numbers from the finance department. I would like to see how well they're doing in the market compared to Madam Malkin's numbers and Twilfit and Tatting's." Lucius nodded and motioned for her to leave.

Ginny did as ordered, making sure to get the projection numbers for all three companies. Lucius had not specified, but Ginny didn't feel like making any more mishaps. She gathered the documents and delivered them to Lucius before going back to her desk to order his lunch. Dilly seemed to know exactly what he needed and moments after she ordered, the smell of food wafted through the office. The smell made Ginny's stomach grumble, and she wondered when she would be able to take a lunch break. She didn't know why Lucius had asked her to clear her schedule, but she also couldn't understand half the things she had been asked to do that morning.

She didn't see the point in attending an event with Lucius if Narcissa was attending as well. It probably sent a strange message, although Ginny did remember seeing a picture of Narcissa and Lucius in the society pages with Romilda lurking in the background. She sighed and sank back in her chair, flipping through the brochures of hotels in Zurich, all Wizarding locales. Ginny doubted that Lucius ventured out in the Muggle world.

Sighing, she wrote a short missive to one of the hotels, requesting additional information about the rooms and the amenities that they offered. She was under the assumption that the most ostentatious, lavish hotel would be the winner. It would be very like the Malfoys to simply want to stay in the hotel that was the most expensive. It suited their persona. However, Ginny was a little wary of making assumptions, her earlier statement about the Zabinis and the Malfoys being friends coming back to her. She didn't mean to say that Lucius was having an affair. Though, Ginny admitted that it was interesting to note how dedicated Lucius seemed to Narcissa. It was something she never expected from them.

As if she could read Ginny's thoughts, Narcissa Malfoy swept into the office. It was the first time that Ginny was seeing her in person, and Ginny could only gaze at her in awe. The pictures did not do the regal beauty justice, and Ginny now knew why Lucius would never need to have an affair. The lavender sheath dress she wore made her look both delicate and waif-like. Ginny's eyes drifted from her hard bone structure to the diamonds glistening around her neck to the large ring adorning her left hand and then finally to the heeled shoes she wore. Everything about her screamed refined beauty and for one of the first times in her life, Ginny felt envious.

She was envious of this cool beauty that she would never be. Her garish red hair would never look so neat. Her body, inherited from her mother, could never be considered as waif-like. Narcissa's skin glowed, and Ginny's was dull and covered with bruises from weekend Quidditch pick up games with her brothers. Ginny knew she would never have the chance to be like Narcissa, who breathed elegance and beauty with every step she took.

And she also knew, rationally thinking, that she really didn't want that. But Ginny couldn't recall a moment where she actually felt beautiful. She always felt like the little sister of the Weasley brothers, who could have been a boy herself with the way she behaved. Molly voiced her opinions on Ginny's lack of femininity sometimes, although Ginny felt that she was a little feminine. She didn't need to wear skirts all the time to be considered a girl.

"Hello, darling." Narcissa kissed Lucius's cheek as he exited his office to greet her. "I came as soon as I got your message. Where is she?"

Lucius motioned to Ginny, who sat there, eyes wide. "This is my new assistant, Ginevra Weasley."

"A Weasley?" Narcissa turned and eyed her critically, eyes flashing with undisguised disgust. "I suppose growing up with all boys would confuse a person about gender appropriate clothing."

Ginny's mouth snapped shut. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Never call me Mrs. Malfoy. I abhor that woman," Narcissa breathed, a small smile directed at her husband. "She's absolutely boorish."

"Yes, my mother can be quite terrible." Lucius wrapped an arm around Narcissa's waist, completely at ease in her presence. "I assume you will be able to deal with Miss Weasley's issue."

"My issue?" Ginny squeaked. She scolded herself for sounding so weak. "I didn't—that is, I have no issue."

Narcissa glanced at Ginny, her gaze and tone condescending as she said, "Yes, Miss Weasley, you most certainly have an issue."

"My wife has volunteered her time for the afternoon to help you pick out the proper attire for the fundraiser on Saturday." Lucius smiled. Ginny felt more that it was at her discomfort than anything else.

"I handle the company's image, Miss Weasley. If you are to be seen out in public with my husband, then you must always be impeccably dressed." Narcissa clasped her hands together, a cool gaze leveled on Ginny. "I believe it should be in your contract as well that upkeep of your person needs to be maintained."

"Upkeep of my person?"

Narcissa approached her desk and slid Ginny's journal in her eye range. "Yes. You see, your current state of dress would hardly be appropriate to lounge around the house, let alone attend a luncheon, especially the Nott Luncheon."

"But I can—"

"Pull out the cheap cotton from your wardrobe for the event." Narcissa scoffed. "I refuse to have my husband appear on the arm of someone who looks like she shops in bargain bins."

Ginny's cheeks flamed red, especially since her blouse had come from the back section of Madam Malkin's. Narcissa did not need to know that though, and Ginny didn't feel the need to sit and listen to Narcissa rant about her lack of fashion sense and femininity. She reassured herself that her breasts were large enough for people to know that she was a female. She didn't need to wear tight fitting clothing or short skirts. She certainly didn't need to kill herself in heels that would give her back problems either.

"Narcissa, dear, Miss Weasley is easily offended—"

"I am not. I just don't see any need to harp on about the fact that I don't wear skirts or dresses. I'm plenty feminine," Ginny spat, clamping her mouth shut when the words left her mouth. She knew that she was being disrespectful, but she couldn't help it.

"Young people these days. You can never take an ounce of criticism." Narcissa shook her head and shut Ginny's appointment book. "Come, dear. We have a lot of work to do."

"I would rather not," Ginny said, trying to prevent her voice from being petulant.

"Miss Weasley, as Narcissa said, your image is part of the contract. If the company does not find your image appropriate for the business, then we are allowed to terminate your contract without a severance." Lucius towered over her, and Ginny now knew why the company was so successful. With Lucius Malfoy at its helm, there was no way around it. "Would you like to see a copy?"

Ginny almost said yes to be difficult but knew it would be better not to take up any more of Narcissa's time. The woman looked calm and cool, but Ginny knew that it would only last a matter of time, especially since she was kindly 'volunteering' her time. Instead, she mustered her courage and stood, taking out her purse from under her desk. She had no say in the matter and she might as well buck up and hope that Narcissa knew she had very little money. It probably had already crossed the woman's mind considering her criticism on Ginny's clothing.

"I'll be home late then darling. We're off to Paris," Narcissa said, giving her husband a chaste kiss. "I arranged dinner for you and Draco at the Manor. I'll stop by and let him know to stay there tonight."

"Paris?" Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or stomp her foot.

"Yes, Paris. We have a lot of shopping to get done, and I would rather not be boring and do it in London." Narcissa patted her husband's chest and smiled. "Be sure to add Ginevra's name to the expense account. She'll need to be able to approve her transactions in the future."

"Expense account?"

"You have so much to learn, Ginevra." Narcissa did not seem happy about that fact. "Come along."

"I don't have my wand," Ginny mumbled. "It broke."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "It broke?"

"During the fall," Ginny said.

"I suppose we can make a stop at Ollivander's before we leave." Narcissa let out a sigh. "I sincerely hope we don't have to deal with much clumsiness from you today."

Ginny didn't have a chance to respond as Narcissa exited the office. She quickly followed behind her, ignoring Lucius's amused expression. She wrestled with her purse to put in on her shoulder, almost bumping into Narcissa who had paused. She entered a door in the hallway, and Ginny recognized it as the door that Draco had gone through the day she saw him. The encounter had left her feeling frazzled. There was something about the look he gave her, the one she thought that resembled a mixture of both Lucius and Narcissa.

The office was similar to Lucius's but smaller in scale, decked out in dark green and black. Narcissa walked past the empty desk and opened the inner office doors, sweeping in the room. Ginny noticed the shades were drawn closed, and Draco looked decidedly rumpled, the top of his shirt open and his cuff sleeves unbuttoned. Narcissa seemed to notice as well, and she gazed at an arrangement of flowers sitting on the coffee table in the small sitting area in Draco's office. Ginny bit her lip to prevent a chuckle.

"You certainly have some odd decorations, Draco." Narcissa waved her wand and the shades lifted. "The tacky pink clashes terribly with the decor."

Ginny watched as Narcissa took her wand and lifted a scanty, lace item from the vase of flowers. It was most definitely a pair of knickers, and Ginny scanned the room to find a hiding spot. She assumed the girl must have dashed off because there didn't seem to be any room for her to hide. But Ginny pushed that aside as she watched Draco's expression. He didn't look the least bit affected by the fact that his mother had his paramour's knickers dangling from her wand.

"I thought it might brighten up the place," Draco drawled.

"You may as well come out now, Ms.—I don't know this one's name." Narcissa looked thoughtful. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Once she is used up, you'll most certainly fire her."

"I'd rather she stay down there if you don't mind. She should be hard at work," Draco said flippantly.

Ginny scoffed in disgust, and Narcissa seemed to share the same sentiment. "Tell your whore to clean up after herself when she's done. I'd rather not have knickers hanging about in a professional setting."

"I will be sure to relay the message," Draco said with a smirk.

"You're having dinner with your father tonight because I will be home late." Narcissa flicked the knickers at Draco. "I'll see you tonight, dear. Don't forget to tuck in and button up when you're done."

"Of course, Mother," Draco said. His eyes fell on Ginny, who had been glaring at him the entire time. "Keep staring, Weasley, and you might be the one under this desk soon."

"You're a pig," Ginny spat, leaving the room behind Narcissa.

* * *

An hour later, Ginny found herself in a store in Wizarding Paris, completely naked. A charm had been cast on her nether regions and upper body to blur them, but she still felt naked. At first, when they had appeared in the small street, she thought nothing of it. It was normal to appear in small alleys. But she was led inside a shop, introduce to Madam Alyda, a lady who looked no older than her 35 but was really 62—or so Ginny learned as she was stripped out of her clothing.

"First we'll have some dress robes custom made before departing to Muggle Paris to pick out a new wardrobe." Narcissa sat to Ginny's right, idly flipping through a catalogue. "Some of the occasions will require you to wear a dress robe. I believe Bulgaria is rather uptight about their dress code when they throw their annual summer bash."

"Bulgaria?"

"You would look fetching in this pearly white color, although it resembles a wedding garb. No, I think we'll stay away from white." Narcissa began flipping once more. "Tell me dear, are you currently seeing anyone?"

"No," Ginny answered, impatiently shifting on her feet and bringing her arms up to cover her bare chest.

Narcissa looked up with a curious glance. "I suppose not. If I were a man, I wouldn't want to try and spend the entire night figuring out if you're a man or a woman."

Ginny huffed. "I'm not a man."

"Oh, I know that," Narcissa said dismissively. "I'm staring at your naked body, and I should add that a few exercises wouldn't be entirely useless. Your curves are rather flattering for men who would go for the buxom, barmaid look. However, you could use a bit of firming."

"I—what—oh!" Ginny turned away from Narcissa, her face and body an alarming shade of red. "I'm perfectly happy with my flab thank you."

"To each her own, I suppose," Narcissa said. "This royal purple will look nice. Madam Alyda, I do have other places to be."

The black haired lady looked affronted as she entered the dressing room, a tray with two champagne flutes in her hand. "Here we are."

Ginny downed the glass and watched as it happily refilled. "Thank you."

"I think this purple would be nice with a fitted bodice—oh and some beading on the bodice would look nice as well—silver or pearls. Charmeuse material I think," Narcissa said thoughtfully. "And then another in black with a slight plunge in the neckline, completely plain with no adornments."

Madam Alyda was waving her wand in rapid movements while Narcissa spoke, murmuring spells with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Yes, yes."

Ginny gasped as purple material snaked around her waist. "Oh that's extremely tight."

"Don't interrupt," Narcissa scolded. The champagne flute dangled delicately from her fingertips. "I think a dress robe in green would look splendid."

"No!" Ginny refused to wear a Slytherin color. "I would rather wear pink."

"Have some more champagne," Narcissa directed.

"Pink will clash with your hair, Ms. Weasley," Madam Alyda stated, flourishing her wand. "I think this will be to your liking."

Ginny spun in the mirror, eyes widening at the sight. While Narcissa had been rattling off color schemes, Madam Alyda had been hard at work, creating a beautiful pair of dress robes. The sleeves were long and fitted, the neckline conservative. The bodice, however, was fastened tightly around her midsection with pearls interwoven in an intricate pattern. The material was light on her skin and had she not been looking at it, she wouldn't have known she were wearing anything at all—well, except for the fact that she could barely breathe.

"We'll take it."

The next hour was spent watching fabric curl around her body and mutilate itself until it perfectly covered her body. Narcissa oversaw the process, and when Ginny had six new dress robes, she ordered a few light robes and cloaks as well. Once it was all over and Ginny was dressed, not to mention a little lightheaded from the champagne, they exited the shop and made their way to Muggle Paris. Ginny was shocked and awed as she tried to take in all the sights before her. All her life she had wanted to travel and here she was in the most beautiful, vibrant city in the world—on a shopping trip. She didn't understand how Malfoys could simply pop over to Paris to shop for an afternoon. It seemed ridiculous.

The first place they stopped was at a small restaurant. Ginny didn't understand a thing on the menu, but she did know that the prices were outlandish. She closed the leather binder shut and listened as Narcissa ordered for the both of them. Ginny knew that it didn't make any sense to resist anything Narcissa did because she was clearly determined to do whatever she felt like.

"I love when Lucius speaks French to me and take him here whenever I can," Narcissa said, sipping the champagne the waiter had left with them.

Ginny blushed as she recalled her thoughts from the night before. "Oh."

"Let us go over proper etiquette," Narcissa said in a business-like tone. "Firstly, you must never slouch."

Ginny found the rest of the meal to be unbearable and entertained thoughts of stabbing Narcissa in the eye, screaming, "Die! Die! Die!" Thinking of that made her endure the rest of her early dinner, and she even managed to put a smile on her face. By the time they walked out, she was in a happier mood. The image of a fork spearing through a part of Narcissa's body had elated her, and the copious amounts of champagne she consumed helped too. Of course, she had also learned about etiquette, but she put that to the back of her mind. It was ruining her buzz.

Soon, they were traipsing down a street that reeked of money, from the window displays to the finely dressed people traversing the sidewalk. Ginny followed Narcissa in store after store, her mind a foggy haze. Belatedly she realized that it probably wasn't the best idea to get drunk while out with her boss's wife, especially when Narcissa seemed overjoyed that Ginny was so pliable under the influence. She was shoved into 'career pieces,' swathed in formal dresses, and strapped into ridiculously high shoes. At one point, she swore she was being fitted for hats as well. All the while, the sales' girls were supplying her with more and more champagne.

When the sky began to get dark, she was carted down the street and into a very bright salon. She had to shield her eyes as they stepped inside and a man with a too tight shirt greeted them. Ginny's vision began to blur when the man engulfed her in a black cloak and shoved her into a seat. She was aware of a spinning motion but not much else. Her fog was beginning to thicken and block her sight. Suddenly, she realized that Narcissa had gotten her drunk on purpose. When Narcissa handed her another glass of champagne, Ginny tried to resist. But after listening to the man and Narcissa prattle on, Ginny couldn't help but to take the glass and sip the contents. At least while drunk, she could happily tune out the pair and envision snipping off their hair with the scissors in front of her.

Ginny didn't know what time it was when she felt the familiar feelings of a Portkey. It took all her willpower not to spew the contents of her stomach all over Narcissa's precious shoes and the marble floor. She didn't quite recognize the floor, or the voices she was hearing. Her head was down, and she breathed in deeply, counting to ten in her head. The voices were still speaking and sounded masculine. The shiny black shoes were definitely masculine. She tried to tune in to the conversation.

"I don't keep up to date on the lives of Weasleys."

"I suppose we ought to let her stay here then. It's raining, and no one knows where the girl lives. I'm not sending anyone out traipsing in this weather."

"Can't we have the house elves dump her somewhere? I don't want to touch her."

"You are trying my patience."

"Come on, Weasley."

Suddenly, the floor was very far away. There was something hard pressed against her body, and she supposed it must have been a person. Whoever it was smelled delicious, and she clung to the person, burying her head into what she assumed to be a man's neck, if the lack of breasts were anything to go by. He had the most masculine scent, a mixture of cologne, sweat and something that she could only describe as purely masculine. She sighed a little bit, the warmth of his body seeping into her own. When she was put into a soft bed, she let out a disgruntled moan at the lack of contact.

He chuckled, and she popped open her eyes. "I'll have to get you drunk some time, Weasley."

Blond hair. The only man she could think of with blond hair was her boss, and he didn't chuckle or smell good. She tried to focus her eyes, but she couldn't. Her shoes were being taken off her feet, and she blearily noticed that someone was stripping her clothing from her body. But the sheets were so soft she could hardly care, and she was very tired. Yes, she was tired, and there was a soft bed beneath her. The logical thing to do would be to sleep. And so she closed her eyes, ignoring the feeling of cool air hitting her thighs, followed by soft warmth covering her—a blanket perhaps. She didn't care. She was simply going to sleep.

"Goodnight, Weasley."

* * *

I will try to update more regularly - _try_ being the key term.


	6. Stick It to the Malfoys!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to J.K. Rowling, and I just play with them.

Not doing a really great job at continuous updates. Blame the real world - send knives and pitchforks towards it actually. Then I can update faster.

Enjoy!

* * *

The next morning, Ginny awoke, feeling completely out of sorts. Her head was pounding something fierce, and she couldn't quite recall why she was awake when it felt like she ought to be sleeping for another few hours. A sharp poke to her stomach made her realize why, and her eyes flew open. She was in an unfamiliar room, the dim glow of the fireplace alerting her to the fact that the sun had not risen as of yet. Hovering above her was none other than her boss's wife, Narcissa Malfoy, and she screamed, slapping her hands over her mouth at the sight.

Narcissa sneered. "Yes, please repay me for my hospitality by bursting my ear drums."

"I'm sorry," Ginny croaked, her eyes darting about as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her head.

The night before came back to her in waves, and she fought the urge to sink further down into the soft blankets covering her. It was embarrassing enough that she had gotten sloshed with her boss's wife, but the fact that she had to spend the night in her boss's home made her fervently wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She inwardly groaned and began to think of all the places that would hire her now because she was surely about to be deemed an incompetent assistant.

"Miss Weasley, I thought that you would be in need of this when you woke up," Narcissa said, handing her a vial with purple liquid in it.

"Thank you," Ginny said, her cheeks maintaining a red tinge. She threw the covers off and stood to retrieve the vial, squeaking in fright when she looked down. "Oh Merlin!"

Ginny was undressed save for her knickers and a black camisole, which she wore under her blouses. She grabbed the blanket from the bed and tried to cover her lower half with it, only to be tugged backwards because the blanket refused to budge. She sat up, cheeks painfully red, and spread the covers over her lap, her eyes fixed to the floor. She did not, under any circumstances, want to look at Narcissa Malfoy right now. The woman had not only seen her hung over but half-naked, and she wondered how she had gotten in that state of undress to begin with.

"Take the potion, Miss Weasley," Narcissa said, handing her the vial. "I have no doubt that your headache is only worsening by the minute."

"Thank you," Ginny mumbled, downing the purple liquid. "I'm sorry about my state of dress."

"Miss Weasley, I've seen you as close to naked as I will ever see you," Narcissa said flippantly. "In any case, you are the least likely culprit for your state of dress. After all, you didn't know where up was from down last night. I can only assume that my son saw fit to take a few liberties."

"Slimy bastard," Ginny muttered.

"Slimy he may be, Miss Weasley, but certainly not a bastard." Narcissa smirked and examined her nails idly. "I've seen fit to pick out an outfit for you to wear today. Lucius tells me that you have a board meeting to attend. The rest of the purchases should be in your flat by now. I got the address from Lucius and sent them along with the house elves."

Narcissa motioned for Ginny to enter the en suite bathroom, and Ginny, shocked into silence, did so immediately. She didn't expect for Narcissa to follow her into the bathroom, but she found herself unable to protest. She didn't know what made Narcissa's presence so frightening and intimidating that she couldn't form coherent words. But out of all the Malfoys, Ginny thought that Narcissa was the scariest one. Granted, Lucius did sacrifice her to a young Voldemort. But in present times, Narcissa got her drunk and forced her from shop to shop, shoving her into outfit after outfit. Ginny slowly began to recall the night before, and her cheeks heated as she realized that at one point she was picking out underthings and lingerie.

"Are we going to lounge about or get dressed?"

Ginny eyed Narcissa unsurely. "Uhm, can I get some privacy?"

"Honestly, like I haven't seen it already," Narcissa snapped. She glared at Ginny. "I will be outside waiting. Make it quick."

Ginny didn't waste any time between the door closing behind her and hopping into the shower. When she turned on the taps, she observed the room she was in. She wished she had time to properly enjoy the large shower, which boasted four different showerheads. She also wished that she had some time to soak in the tub, which she was sure could fit her entire family comfortably. It also had many nozzles that Ginny suspected would make her smell divine and relax her tense muscles.

She soaped up using a pink liquid from a nozzle in the side of the wall and scrubbed her skin. Usually, after a night of drinking, she would reek of alcohol. Hopefully, with champagne, that would not be the case. She was embarrassed to think that she had been so uninhibited around Narcissa the night before, but she would be even more mortified if the room had a stench of alcohol fumes. She scoured her skin vigorously and washed her hair with something that smelled vaguely of lavender before washing off and turning off the taps.

Just as she wrapped a towel around her body, Narcissa opened the door and waved her wand, the steam immediately evaporating. In her hand, she held a black bag with a hanger sticking out the top. She didn't say a word to Ginny as she hung the bag on a hook in the wall and unzipped the bag, gently pulling the contents of it out.

"Yes, I think this one is the perfect outfit for a board meeting. The old codgers will be suitably distracted, and you want them to be distracted." Narcissa exited the room and came back with something lacy. "Here, put these on and let me do something with your hair."

Ginny gaped as she held the lacy underthings by her fingers. They were the most risqué knickers that she had seen. In fact, she was sure that they shouldn't be considered knickers at all. The small triangle of lace thinned into a single string that would no doubt rest in a rather uncomfortable spot. But she didn't seem to have much of a choice. She awkwardly slipped them on while holding her towel up before doing the same with the matching brasserie.

Narcissa waved her wand, and a small vanity chair skated out from under the counter. Ginny sat when directed and, for the first time, her eyes flickered to her reflection in the mirror. What she saw nearly made her fall backwards off the stool. Where she used to have long locks, her hair was now cut short, hanging a little past her shoulders. She didn't know how it had slipped past her when she washed her hair. But Narcissa hadn't stopped at a haircut. Her hair was also a shade darker, a rich red rather than the reddish-orange shade it had been before. If it hadn't been for her brown eyes staring back at her, she might have thought it was a different person sitting in front of her.

She fingered her newly shorn locks. "This is unreal."

"It's actually closer to your natural color. Time spent in the sun without the proper charms will lighten your hair color." Narcissa slapped her hand away. "I don't plan on spending all day catering to you, Miss Weasley."

With a complicated twist of her hand, Ginny's hair straightened with a few glossy waves scattered throughout. Her hair seemed to have a healthy sheen to it, and Ginny wanted desperately to tug on it, make sure it was real. She still couldn't adjust to seeing this new person in the mirror. She didn't like it either. There was nothing wrong with her lanky hair from before, and she wondered if she could possibly reverse whatever spell had been cast on it.

"It's a restoration spell, Miss Weasley, which means it's natural." Narcissa sheathed her wand in her sleeve and pointed at the outfit on the hook. "Get dressed."

Ginny continued to stare at her reflection, wondering what other surprises were in store for her while working for Lucius. Magnolia had never had a problem with her attire before, and Ginny never saw a problem with her black trousers and simple cardigans. They were comfortable and professional. With a sigh, she stood and looked at the outfit. It looked innocent enough, a black skirt and white blouse. She shrugged and slipped the blouse on, eyes bulging.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Ginny whispered.

The blouse, while not completely sheer, was thin enough to show a glimmer of her black lace brasserie. It also didn't button up all the way, and the swell of her breasts were playing peek-a-boo if she shifted just so. She swore softly to herself and unhooked the skirt, slipping it on with a shake of her head. The satin material clung to her every curve, encasing her lower body in a sheath of shiny material. Once again, expletives were let loose from her mouth as she zipped up the pencil skirt, the tight cloth cinching even more. The shoes were thankfully low-heeled, higher than her kitten heels but not near Narcissa's heel height.

When she looked in the mirror, she found herself even more unrecognizable. Her hair covered enough that the sheer blouse went from trashy to alluring—at least she thought it was alluring. She didn't know what alluring looked like, as she preferred the conservative look. But with no other outfit choices and a jobless life threatening her if she didn't hurry, she smoothed down the satin skirt and exited the bathroom, attempting to walk normally, a failed mission. The skirt restricted free movement.

Narcissa smiled. "This will do. We have to play with your overly large breasts."

"Mother, am I interrupting something?" Leaning in the doorway with an amused smirk on his face was Draco Malfoy, impeccably dressed in a pair of perfectly tailored black slacks, a crisp white shirt covering his upper body. Hanging loose and undone around his neck was a dark blue tie. "I doubt Father would appreciate you having a mistress. Then again, he might enjoy it."

"With all due respect, Mrs—Narcissa, your son is a prat," Ginny said, crossing her arms.

"Ouch, Weasley, you wound me," Draco said, a mocking expression on his face. "I thought we had something. Last night, you were so dependent on my touch. You, much like your house mascot, act like a feline. I almost expected you to purr as you burrowed into my chest."

Ginny, despite the blush on her cheeks, refused to back down. "Yes, it would make sense that the only way I wouldn't feel urges to hex you is when I am drunk off my arse."

"Ah, but is it not true that alcohol lowers one's inhibitions so they may act on repressed feelings and speak the truth." Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are there some repressed feelings you'd like to act out on? I would be happy to help."

"As amusing as this . . . interlude is, Miss Weasley should be getting to work now. Take a left out the door and walk straight until you hit the staircase. You can Floo from the entrance hall," Narcissa said, her tone icy as she faced her son. "You, Draco, have a breakfast date with Astoria. Don't be late."

Ginny grabbed her purse and wand, her eyes glancing back in the bathroom to see that her clothes had disappeared. She rolled her eyes before turning back to face Narcissa. "Thank you, Mrs—Narcissa. While I still find it unnecessary, I feel compelled to thank you for the time you invested."

"It was an adventure I would rather not repeat." Narcissa didn't smile as Ginny stepped past her, though she did hear her mutter, "You'll make a good assistant."

With a smile, Ginny stalked past Draco, not before saying, "The only repressed feelings between us right now is disgust—and it's barely repressed."

* * *

Ginny groaned when her trek across the room to Annabelle took twice as long as it usually did. The skirt, no matter how many charms she tried on it, refused to become easier to move in. Had it not been for the fact that she was terrible at alteration charms, she would have severed the end of the skirt to above her knees so she could move around. She handed three envelopes to Annabelle, watching as she flew through the window with ease.

She had arrived at work at seven in the morning and ordered some toast from Dilly. She had quickly scarfed it down, her stomach gratefully accepting the contents. All the drinking she had done plus having to take the headache potion early in the morning had increased her hunger pangs. Immediately after, she had confirmed the catering service for the meeting, and then started on sorting out the appointments for the day as well as responding to the various letters that appeared for Lucius. Ginny had a large pile of letters to sort through due to not being around the day before. She was amused by Carmen Zabini's saccharine reply to Lucius being busy.

"Miss Weasley, please go and ensure the conference room is ready for the meeting," Lucius ordered from his office. "Did you have the final contract copied for the meeting?"

Ginny walked to his office and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. The contracts have been copied for each board member who will be attendance. I also have a few extras in case of any surprises."

"Did you also compile the projection numbers of the clothiers?" asked Lucius, not looking up from his book.

"I have it right here for you to approve," Ginny said, stepping forward and placing it on his desk. "I did a side by side chart and then compiled it into a graph."

Lucius glanced over it and nodded. "Yes, this seems adequate. Have copies made for the meeting as well. Hold onto them, and I will ask you for them when needed."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

Ginny walked as quickly as she could from the office, performing a simple copying spell on the compilation of numbers. Grabbing the stack, she exited the room and walked down the hall to the conference room. The table was already set up with water glasses, and a contract, which Lucius had secured with the Nimbus Broom Racing Company, sat in front of every chair. Two women stood at one side of the room, a house elf between them. They looked like they were trying desperately to blend into the wall or the table they stood next to, which was covered in an assortment of different foods.

"Would you like something, Ms. Weasley?" asked the caterer.

Ginny shook her head as her eyes scanned the room. "No, I think everything looks good. When everyone comes in and is seated, then serve the food. Please make sure that the place settings don't appear on anyone's papers."

"Yes, Ms. Weasley," the caterer replied, glancing down at the house elf.

"And remember that Mr. Montague is a vegetarian. He'll be sitting in this seat right here," Ginny said, motioning to the seat with his name card on it. "So he gets the vegetarian dish."

"Yes, Ms. Weasley."

"Are we ready then?" Lucius strode into the office, glancing around. "I see we have food this time around—good food."

Ginny bit her lip and ignored the comment, setting her papers down on a small table directly behind Lucius's chair and taking a seat on the chair next to it. "The meal will be served upon their arrival. Will that work?"

"Yes, distract them with food," Lucius said, sitting down at the head of the table. "I think you will soon learn that it is all about the distractions. It's how I keep running my company the way I see fit without investors trying to take control."

"That explains my outfit then," Ginny muttered, wondering for the fifth time that day if she should transfigure herself a jacket. "You won't need me to take notes?"

"Not unless you need them for yourself," Lucius replied distractedly as he checked over the contract. "You'll be writing the monthly newsletter and some of the information from the board meeting will be pertinent."

Ginny immediately opened her book, idly twirling her quill in her hands. Her memory could sometimes be fuzzy. "The meeting will be on—"

"Miss Weasley, please don't bother me with your questions at this moment," Lucius said, holding his hand up.

She clamped her mouth shut with a roll of her eyes. Ginny had to admit that working for Lucius was beginning to get quite confusing. At times, he could be helpful and gentle with her, prodding her in the right direction when she needed help. Well, gentle was perhaps not the right word but, at the very least, he had been tolerable. However, sometimes, he could be a pain in the arse, harsh, and cruel. He went from hot to cold in minutes, and Ginny just couldn't catalogue him. More than likely, he did it on purpose to keep people on their toes. No one could ever assume how he was going to act. He was unpredictable.

Minutes ticked by and Ginny leaned forward, trying her best not to sigh. She was extremely exhausted. She didn't know what time she had gotten in the night before, but she did know that she had not gotten much sleep. She was somewhat surprised that Narcissa hadn't seen to put on a bit of makeup in order to cover the dark circles under her eye. Ginny hadn't been sleeping much over the past few days of working for Lucius Malfoy. She looked forward to an evening to herself in order to indulge in blissful sleep.

"Nice view, Weasley. No wonder Mother is thinking of batting for the other team. I would love to play with your brea—"

"Draco, cease and desist harassing my assistant. She's likely to hex you and get herself fired," Lucius said, not looking up from the contracts. "I would hate to have to search for another assistant because of you."

Ginny relaxed her hand on her wand, blushing. She didn't think that she was that transparent, but she shook those thoughts off, glaring at Draco. He was standing in the doorway, a jacket now covering his white shirt. Ginny thought that it was completely unfair that whenever she saw him, he looked like he walked out of the pages of a Witch's Weekly advert.

"I see you saw fit to sit in on the meeting after all," Lucius said blandly.

"Yes, well, with Weasley providing ample visuals, I couldn't resist." Draco sat down gracefully in the chair to the left of Lucius, in front of Ginny, winking at her. He picked up the contract and snorted. "Does Nimbus know how much he's being cheated?"

"I find the contract to be quite fair," Lucius said, smirking at his son. "It isn't my fault the man is poor at negotiating."

"Of course not, just like it isn't Weasley's fault that she's exposing herself to the room," Draco said, his eyes fixated on where her blouse gaped and exposed the tops of her breasts.

"That really isn't my fault," Ginny muttered, looking down at her cleavage and pressing the shirt to her chest. "It's your mother's."

"Now you're fondling yourself," Draco said in mock exasperation. "You'll make the board members have a heart attack."

"Perhaps she could keep it up then," Lucius said, never looking back at Ginny. "We could do without Harper's presence in the world."

"Benjamin Harper, his son, is pining for me," Draco said smugly. "I attract boys and girls it seems."

Ginny snorted. "Yes of the loose variety."

Lucius looked back at her now with a raised eyebrow. "Miss Weasley, you have quite a tongue. Why I was under the impression you were a meek simpleton."

"No, she's a fiery simpleton, Father," Draco said, flashing Ginny a smirk.

"I should thank you for having intimate relations with Romilda then," Lucius said to Draco. "She was rather meek and tarty."

"You don't consider Weasley here tarty?" asked Draco, leering at her.

"No, I would describe her as frumpy. Without your mother's guidance, she would be wearing those horrid cotton cardigans," Lucius said offhandedly. "Very unattractive."

Ginny's cheeks heated, and she couldn't have been more thankful when a man walked in the room. She identified him as Darius Harper by his side parted pepper gray hair. She had seen him a few times in the Daily Prophet. He was a philanthropist, an investor, and charitable. He donated to a few organizations. Overall, he was portrayed in the press as a good man. His son, on the other hand, was known as a rake, who often changed the sexual preference of single bachelors. Ginny had a laugh when it came out that Benjamin Harper seduced Vincent Crabbe.

"Lucius, it's good to see you." Darius sat in his seat, one seat down for Draco. "I haven't seen you since the disastrous luncheon at Memorial Park."

"Horrid place to use as a venue," Lucius commented. "How is the family?"

"Well," Darius replied. "Vivian speaks highly of the manor, by the way. She wants to have our tea room remodeled."

"Yes, it has been around for centuries, and Narcissa keeps everything in its original condition," Lucius said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "It's no wonder Vivian wants to remodel your tea room. It's always nice to have a hint of the antique."

"Antique is just another word for old and used," Darius retorted, eyeing the contract set out in front of him.

"I like antique. Antique liquors for example, an old, aged Firewhiskey is far better in quality and taste than a newer bottle," Lucius said. Ginny could only imagine that Lucius was smiling at Harper. "Wouldn't you agree, Darius?"

Darius didn't answer because at that moment, a group of men entered the room. Some were dressed in Muggle attire, and some were clothed in strict Wizarding robes. Ginny nodded to the caterer when she saw them all pick up their contracts, and the food appeared on the table, in front of the men. They all seemed content with the food choices, and she was happy to see that the vegetarian dish had been served for Montague, whose eyes seemed to light up at the sight of the food from Golden Coral. She made a note in her book that Montague seemed to love food, just in case Lucius sent out gifts like Magnolia did.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, her stomach rolling uncomfortably as she inhaled the scent of food permeating the air. Lucius hadn't mentioned if she would be able to eat, and she was starving. Her light breakfast of dry toast had not been filling, and she crossed her legs, resting a hand on her stomach. She willed it not to grumble and alert the men around the table that she was in the room. That wasn't the way Lucius wanted to distract the men in the room.

They chatted amiably together. Ginny caught references to last year's summer season. She figured they were talking about the many balls and galas. Letting out a sigh, she idly twirled a lock of her hair, propping her elbow on her knee and her head on her hand. There was no business discussion happening in the room. She even saw two of the men comparing pictures of their grandchildren. It seemed like more of a dinner occasion than a business meeting. All in all, Ginny admired Lucius's savvy. After such a meal, the men would have a hard time adjusting to business talk. She knew she would.

Her eyes fell on Draco Malfoy, who seemed to blend in with all the stuffy men in the room. He was leaning towards the man next to him, who Ginny didn't recognize, and speaking in low tones. His expression was serious, and the man seemed to be nodding in agreement to whatever he said. In that instant, she noticed the similarities to his father. Before, there seemed to be stark differences in his and Lucius's personalities. But they had the same bone structure, and Ginny had to admire what the Malfoy men were built of.

As if knowing she was looking at him, Draco's gray eyes focused on her, and he gave her a smirk. She flashed him an irritated smile as he glanced at her under hooded eyelids, his body still leaning towards the man next to him. She wished she could give him a personality transplant. His behavior made him unattractive. She wanted to hit herself for even considering Draco Malfoy attractive to begin with, although she knew it wasn't the first time. But it was hard to resist looking at him when he graced almost every form of newspaper and magazine she read.

Thankfully, at that moment, the food disappeared from the table. The meeting was about to begin. Ginny watched as Lucius took a sip of his water and cleared his throat, holding up the contract that Mr. Nimbus had agreed upon. She took out her own copy and rested it on the desk next to her, her journal on her knee, quill poised above the pages.

"I believe this meeting was called to ascertain the progress on the Nimbus Broom Racing Company. As you can see, outlined is a beneficial contract for the company with Mr. Nimbus's company. He has agreed to allow us to invest in the company and take the dominating stake. We have the right connections to elevate his status past that of the Firebolt Company." Lucius paused, and Ginny knew it was so he could view the mild shock on the faces of the board members. "With our resources and our connections in real estate, we will help him establish stores for Nimbus broom sales only. Are there any objections to the direction of the company?"

The question was directed at Harper, who shook his head. "No, I think everything is in order and well executed. I have no doubt that my money shall only grow with the company."

"Yes, I agree. And now that I have you all together in a room, I think it would be a good time to discuss branching off into a growing industry in the Wizarding world," Lucius began. He turned his head to the side and said, "Miss Weasley, the documents."

For the first time since they arrived, all the men in the room glanced at her. None tried to cover their obvious stares as she walked around the room, handing them their papers. Her cheeks turned red when she realized that every time she leaned forward to rest a paper in front of one of the board members, she inadvertently gave the men across from her a look at her cleavage. She did her best to have the papers discreetly cover her peeking breasts, but it did nothing to help. The men still stared, and one look at Lucius showed her that he had planned it.

She made a full circle around the room and rested the documentation in front of Lucius with a curt, "Sir."

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," Lucius said, his hand lightly touching her waist. She noticed that his hand lingered, and the men in the room now seemed intent on burning a hole through her skirt. "Could you please dismiss the catering staff?"

Ginny nodded, doing her best not to run from the room when she noticed that her trek across the room was well observed. Again, she cursed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy for turning her into some sort of sex object but reminded herself of the alternative: working for her brothers and living at home. With that thought in mind, she decided to give the men a show. Maybe one of them would keel over and have a heart attack after all. She did her best to sashay across the room, given her skirt.

Lucius cleared his throat when she reached the caterer. "As you can see before you, I have calculated the projection of sales for several clothing outlets in the Wizarding world. The fashion industry is growing in the Wizarding world, as I'm sure your wives have informed you." A smattering of laughter filled in the room.

"No, Lucius, as our bank accounts shrinking have told us," Harper said with a shake of his head, his eyes still focused on Ginny. "Vivian spent Galleons on some ghastly hat that she said was the 'height of fashion.'"

"Women," Montague muttered. "My wife did the same. Apparently, hats with birds on them are sensible."

"You'll forgive us for our husband speech, Miss Weasley," Harper said, his eyes fixated on her rear as she made her way back to her seat. "I am sure you are sensible and frugal."

"I have it on good authority that Weasley here is the height of frugality, Mr. Harper," Draco stated with a smirk. "Her salary is pittance compared to yours."

Ginny was offended by the insult and dug her nails into her palm. She refused to act out and hex Draco, though she swore that a tiny spark flew from her wand sitting at the edge of the desk.

"Is that so?" Harper smiled at her. "Why, I am in the market for an assistant, especially with the talents that you no doubt possess. I am sure I could pay you double what Lucius is paying you."

Somehow, Ginny suspected that the talents he needed involved her in even tighter and noticeably shorter clothing. "Thank you, Mr. Harper. You're embarrassing me with your compliments, and I must respectfully decline. I am happy with my position with Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, I suppose a position under Lucius might be pleasurable for someone of your status," Harper replied nonchalantly.

He didn't take rejection well, and Ginny did not take his compliment well either. Had Lucius not intervened, she was liable to have lost her job and had to leave the country. She was a millisecond away from grabbing her wand and hexing Harper on the spot.

"Darius, if you insist on antagonizing my lovely assistant with crude comments, I am going to have to adjourn the meeting and ask that you not be present in the same room as her. She seems to be above your station when it comes to class," Lucius said coldly.

Ginny felt, for the first time, thankful for Lucius's presence. By the abashed and slightly apologetic look on Harper's face, the message had stuck. Happy, Ginny smoothed down the back of her skirt and made to sit down on her chair as Lucius began to talk of the projection numbers for Gladrags, Twilfits, and Madam Malkins. She made a move to grab her journal on her way down to her seat, accidentally dropping her quill. With a sigh, she bent over to retrieve it, gasping at the unmistakable sound of cloth ripping, her cheeks flaming a bright red. Instantly, she sat down in her chair, eyes wide as she glanced around the room to see if anyone heard. Only one set of gray eyes looked at her, and she wished, for the second time since that morning, that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

The rest of the meeting was spent with her attempting to play it cool and not shift around too much. She prayed fervently that Lucius wouldn't ask her to perform any more distractions for the meeting. He didn't, and she let out a sigh of relief as the room began to empty. Lucius seemed happy enough with the results, and she supposed he was, considering some of the men kept glancing at the skin her unbuttoned shirt exposed when she leaned over to scribble in her notes.

She grabbed her wand, trying to recall any mending skills as Lucius left. But she noticed the room was not empty. In fact, the one person who she thought heard the rip was staring at her, his lips upturned smugly. He leaned back in his chair, jacket open and falling to his sides, openly staring at her. Again, she wrung her hands to prevent herself from hexing him for his earlier comment.

"Weasley, it's customary for ladies to go first," Draco said with a raised eyebrow. "I would be remiss in my gentlemanly duty if I ignored that fact."

Ginny snorted. "Gentleman?"

"I assure you my mother would take offense if you called me anything but," Draco replied smoothly.

"Hiding behind your mother's skirts, how original," Ginny remarked, rolling her eyes.

"I would much rather hide beneath your skirt, Weasley. But I don't think much more could fit, do you? I don't even think you could fit in that skirt," he said, unashamedly dragging his eyes up and down her body. "I could have sworn I heard the sound of ripping satin."

"And how would you know what ripping satin sounds like?" Ginny shot back.

"Oh, Weasley, I've ripped a few dresses in my day. The sound is not something easily forgotten, especially when it's followed with such pleasurable actions." Draco stood, his eyes glinting. "Stand up, Weasley."

"I will not," Ginny said hotly, arms crossed.

"Stand," Draco ordered with a shake of his head. "If you could have fixed your skirt, you would have done it and dispensed with this conversation, unless I've mistaken your annoyance and you're really thrilled to be in my presence. Who could really blame you?"

"What? You mend skirts now? Is this some secret hobby of yours?" Ginny laughed at the idea. "Perhaps you're really chasing after Benjamin Harper, goading him on."

Before she could even blink, Draco had hauled her to her feet, his wand tip running down the skin exposed from the rip. She could feel the wood pressed against her bare bottom as he whispered a spell. Immediately, she felt the satin on her skin once more, and her cheeks flamed that not only had he saved her but his body was far too close to her. She could feel his breath ruffling her hair, his hand still gripping her arm.

"Trust me, Weasley, girls are my preference." He released her arm and slapped the spot his wand was just running across. "Nice arse, Weasley, and lovely knickers."

"Malfoy!"

But he was gone, and Ginny was left staring at an empty doorway. She cursed to herself, trying not to think about the situation she was just in. It would not bode well. She gathered her things together and refocused her mind to work. Draco Malfoy would not mess with her head, not in the slightest—although it would be nice if she couldn't feel the heat of his handprint tingling on her skin as if it had seared through her skirt.

* * *

"Ginny!"

"Ergh, leaf me aloe."

"Aloes have leaves, yes."

"What?"

Ginny rolled over, groaning when she felt something lumpy underneath her. Her eyes felt heavy, and she struggled to open them. Once she did, she resisted the urge to grab her wand and hex her best friend. While she loved Hermione dearly, interrupting much needed sleep was not something friends were supposed to do to other friends. But she managed to simply groan some unintelligible curses before easing herself into a sitting position.

"Sorry, I was worried about you," Hermione murmured, eyeing the bedroom with curiosity. "You said you were going to meet me for dinner tonight, and you weren't there."

"Bloody hell, is it that late?" Ginny glanced over at the clock at her bedside, having a hard time seeing it over the bags piled on her bed. "I only meant to take a short nap before coming to meet you. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I brought some food with me." She unbuckled her trench coat and pointed to Ginny, brandishing her hand. "You can explain that lovely outfit you're wearing over a meal."

Ginny laughed and toed off her shoes, which she had left on. After the board meeting, Lucius had gone over the schedule with her, and she had started studying the monthly newsletter to see what she had to do. Fortunately for her, Lucius had an early dinner scheduled with Narcissa and sent Ginny home at four. She had jumped at the chance of getting some sleep and had, apparently, passed out on the bed as soon as she got into the bedroom.

"Narcissa Malfoy got her hand in my wardrobe," Ginny said, standing and pulling her blouse out of her skirt. "Apparently, as a personal assistant, I must look like a slag and display my assets so as to distract leering old men."

Hermione laughed. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Ginny waved her hand around to all the bags and various sized boxes. "All of this is due to Narcissa Malfoy getting me drunk—oh and an expense account for my wardrobe."

"That's, uhm, lovely?" Hermione laughed at the annoyed expression on Ginny's face. "I take it you don't like all your new clothes then?"

"I don't even know what's there," Ginny said, perilously close to whining. "I was drunk. For Merlin's sake, the woman got me sloshed until I couldn't even make it home. I spent the night at Malfoy Manor, and Draco Malfoy, of all people, put me to bed."

"Maybe you should start from the beginning," Hermione said slowly, clearly trying to decipher what Ginny said. "And I should get the food unpacked."

"I'll be out in a second," Ginny mumbled.

She moved to her dresser and rummaged through to find a pair of comfortable pajamas, all the while glaring at the obstacles littering her path. Had Narcissa been in her room, Ginny would have glared at her too. She had been struggling, for the past few days, to retain some sort of normalcy in her life. But it seemed that the Malfoys would slowly chip away at her until she was the perfect personal assistant and fit the mold they built for her. She desperately wished that Romilda Vane hadn't been such a slag and hadn't gotten fired. If not, her careful life would not have been turned over.

"Ginny, the food is out," Hermione called.

Ginny threw on her t-shirt and a pair of shorts before joining her friend in the living room. Hermione had bought half the menu from the restaurant and spread it out across the coffee table. Ginny smiled at the thought. Her friend knew that food, good food would cheer her up, if needs be. And Ginny most certainly needed a little bit of cheering up at the moment. She didn't know why something as silly as new clothes was making her feel so out of sorts.

"It's not the new clothes, Ginny. It's what they represent," Hermione said when Ginny voiced her thoughts. "Clothes have always been a representation of who we feel we are as people."

"Great, so now people will think I feel like I'm a tart," Ginny muttered around a bite of chicken. "That's just the impression I want to give."

"Ginny, you need to see things in a different light. Pretend that you didn't work for the Malfoys. Instead, you work for someone named John Smith. John thinks you're good enough for a promotion. He gives you a large pay raise and tells you to be his assistant."

"Where are you going with this?" interrupted Ginny.

"Hear me out," Hermione said. "He explains that you need a few things because of your new occupation: clothes, shoes, hairstyle—you look great by the way. Would you be bothered if it was John Smith?"

Ginny shot her friend a bewildered look. "Of course I bloody well would be. Were my clothes not good enough? Did my looks offend him?"

"Fine, forget it," Hermione exclaimed with a shake of her head. "Let's proceed with the customary Malfoy family bashing then. We might as well get it over with now. I would like to explore your new clothes. I can't imagine that those things from Chanel would be cheap."

"Chanel?"

"Don't bother," Hermione said, waving her off. "Muggle designers. Famous for making clothes and charging exorbitant prices for them. But, in reality, you can get the same pieces of clothing for a much cheaper price at a department store."

"Now you see all that's wrong with the Malfoys then," Ginny said, smiling.

"I never said there was anything wrong with designers, Ginny. Consider yourself lucky to have an expense account that affords you the privilege of spending so much money," Hermione said. "Maybe you can take me shopping one of these days."

"Yes, stick it to the Malfoys!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Your new slogan?"

"You have to admit, it's catchy."


	7. Let's Not Forget the Contract

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed as a guest - I can't reply to you, but just know that I am thankful for reviews. :)

* * *

Ginny found the rest of the week to be as tiring as her first few days and extremely slow. When Friday rolled around, she was desperately looking forward to the weekend, until she remembered that she would be appearing at her first function with Lucius Malfoy. It was enough to make her wish that the week had gone by slower. The idea that she would be amongst the upper crust of society, rubbing shoulders with the likes of the men she had met in the boardroom, was daunting at best and terrifying at worst. She wanted to back out or scream, possibly about the fact that her life seemed to be spiraling out of control.

She had no moment to breathe since she had first been hired. Whirlwind trips to France to pick out Abraxans and shop, strange interludes otherwise known as manhandling by her boss's son—she was going insane. Her life had been turned upside down, and as she looked at her schedule, she could find no opening for her to take a step back and relax for a moment. She was constantly on her toes around Lucius, and he seemed to delight in the fact that she always seemed on edge, never truly relaxed.

Slipping her feet back into her low-heeled shoes, she gathered her things and placed them in her expanding handbag, a gift from Hermione. After telling her best friend about her disastrous week, Hermione had warned Ginny that she should be prepared for any and everything. The bottomless bag now held a few things, which Hermione considered to be essentials: a change of clothes, an extra pair of shoes, some medicinal potions, Muggle moistening wipes—though she didn't see why she would need those—and various other things her Muggleborn friend had given her. Her bag was now her lifeline.

"Ms. Weasley, my office."

Ginny looked up, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. The clenched jaw of the Malfoy patriarch could only mean one thing: he had just spoken with his son. Over the few days of working with him, Ginny had learned that whenever Lucius spoke to Draco, he would come back with a clenched jaw, followed by an irritable mood. In those times, Ginny did her best to keep busy and avoid her boss like an outbreak of Dragon Pox.

She wished, upon all things good, that Draco would simply do as his father wished, not because she particularly cared about the father son feud. It was mostly because she had to deal with Lucius's temperament on these occasions. More than once, Lucius had come back from one of their discussions and snapped at her for no apparent reason, sometimes threatening to fire her—or asking her to hire someone to kill his son. The first time he did, she wasn't sure if he meant it or not.

Ginny fixed the ruffled hem of her sheath dress before entering the room. "Sir?"

"I will arrive at your home at fifteen minutes to six tomorrow. From there, we will Apparate to Goyle Manor for the Society for Distressed Witches function," Lucius said, opening his journal. "I expect you to be dressed and ready by the time I arrive."

"Mr. Malfoy, I can make my own travel—"

"I'm sorry. Did I miss the part where that statement became a question?" Lucius eyed her coldly. "I don't remember an inflection at the end of the sentence."

"Of course not," Ginny replied, trying not to squeak and doing an admirable job. It was one of the things she needed to work on.

"Very good. Now to discuss the event," Lucius said, leaning back. "I suppose since you have no class and understanding of society, I must educate you on what to expect."

Ginny kept her mouth shut, digging her nails into her hand.

"Sit," Lucius ordered.

She sank down in the chair, averting her eyes from his. She hated that he bossed her around like a wayward Kneazle. But the fact that her pay would be in her Gringott's account in a matter of hours kept her from unleashing the famous Weasley temper. In the end, she was doing this for her independence and financial wellbeing.

"The Society for Distressed Witches has been hosting these fundraisers for years now," Lucius began. "Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle—"

Ginny tried to repress her snort but was unsuccessful.

"When you're done amusing yourself, no doubt about your schoolmates unfortunate build, perhaps we can continue," Lucius said.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ginny said sheepishly.

"As I was saying, Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle has hosted the event for the past seven years. It is a rather important event, and most of the upper echelon of society will attend—if only to look good. You see, people look favorably upon people who care about women from tough situations," Lucius said plainly.

Ginny clenched her fists once more, reminding herself that this was her boss.

"And, of course, it's necessary for you to be politically correct and watch your phrasing while there. Some of the women, who have been helped by the Society, will be in attendance. Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle likes for us to see where our money is going," Lucius said, raising an eyebrow at Ginny's expression. "You have something to say, Miss Weasley?"

"Well, to me, it seems cruel to display these women like they are prized Abraxans, waiting to be bought," Ginny said, her temper rising despite her earlier restraint. "These poor women probably don't even want people to know their situations."

"Miss Weasley, did I say that they were pointed out?" Lucius gazed at her when she shook her head. "The Society gives the women an experience that they, more often than not, have never experienced before. You may not have the desire to attend parties and the like, Miss Weasley, but you would be narrow minded to think that other women think like you. It has been my experience with you that you're stubborn and refuse to believe anything other from what you perceive to be the truth."

"That isn't true."

"Isn't it? Have you ever pondered my motives behind becoming a Death Eater, Miss Weasley?" Lucius asked, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny didn't want to answer—couldn't answer.

"I'm sure you have," Lucius said after a moment of silence. "You no doubt assume that I was greedy for power or wished to see my family name elevated. Perhaps you think that I was coerced or possibly forced into it. My favorite one is that I am simply an incarnation of evil."

"Sir . . ." She stopped, unwilling to continue. What he was saying was correct.

"I can tell you, Miss Weasley, that none of these are correct." Lucius leaned forward over his journal and waved his hand dismissively. "You may leave for the day. I will see you tomorrow evening."

With her head filled with thoughts of Lucius Malfoy, she left the office.

At precisely fifteen minutes to six, a knock sounded on her door. Ginny looked up from her seat on the couch, where she had been worrying her lower lip, and let out a sigh. She had spent hours getting ready for the event. Not being used to primping, she had taken a long bath, in cool water thanks to a bit of faulty plumbing in her building, and then spent an hour trying to figure out which dress to wear.

In the end, she had chosen a silk, black gown. After putting her hair into the only formal style she could think of, a chignon at the nape of her neck, she had donned the gown. It had seemed simple and understated on the hanger but on her, was anything but. The one-shouldered gown had a daring split that exposed her leg with every step she made, no matter how small. But with little time left after putting on a dash of makeup, she had no choice but to leave it, picking out a pair of jeweled sandals with a relatively low heel.

Now, Lucius Malfoy stood on the other side of the door, waiting for her to open it. She jumped to her feet, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts, and ran to open the door. However, she was surprised to find Hermione.

"Hermione?"

"Ginny? Is that you?" Hermione gaped at her, eyes wide.

She touched the back of her chignon self-consciously. "Yes."

"You look gorgeous," Hermione exclaimed. "I can't—wow."

"I don't," Ginny said.

"On the contrary, Miss Weasley, I must agree with Ms. Granger."

Startled, Ginny stepped on the hem of her dress, almost tripping back. "Mr. Malfoy!"

"Miss Weasley," Lucius greeted, dressed in a Muggle tuxedo and looking quite dapper. "I thought Narcissa did a tremendous job with your transformation. However, it seems I didn't realize the extent."

"Thank you, sir," Ginny stammered.

"Ms. Granger, Professor Snape speaks highly of you," Lucius said.

"Hmm, you must mean he complains incessantly," Hermione said laughingly. "I've never met a man as frustrating as him. And the criticizing!"

Ginny's eyebrows shot into her hairline at Hermione's flushed cheeks. "Hermione, we have to go. Work."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione shot Lucius an apologetic look. "Mr. Malfoy, forgive me for taking your time."

"Ms. Granger," Lucius said politely.

"Ah, right, good luck," Hermione said to Ginny before disappearing down the stairs.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Luck, Miss Weasley? I wasn't aware you would need any."

"Please, come in," Ginny said, lowering her gaze. "We can Portkey from in here."

She didn't bother to see if he would follow as she gathered her purse and donned an inky black cloak that was hanging over her sofa. A small flick of her wand had the wards up, and she turned to Lucius expectantly, waiting for him to produce the Portkey. He did, an amused expression on his face as a rather loud cheer sounded from outside.

"Miss Weasley, I am sure you could afford a much nicer place with your new salary, perhaps somewhere with a bit more space and less noise. I am also positive that Lady Flint would be happy to assist you." He glanced around at the bags littered across the room before holding out a square block. "The Portkey will activate in a few seconds."

Ginny had only a moment to react before she felt the tugging feeling in the pit of her stomach. They landed in what could only be described as a garish entrance hall. Everything was covered in gold with large crystal accents—and two large turquoise statues framing the staircase. Four men, who upon seeing Lucius immediately took their cloaks with much bowing of their heads, greeted them.

"This way, Miss Weasley," Lucius said, extending his arm.

Hesitantly, Ginny placed her arm through his, wondering about his sudden change of attitude. He could almost be described as peppy, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out a question about his mood.

"You remember the board meeting, Miss Weasley?" Lucius steered her down a corridor, lamps casting a golden glow along the way.

"Yes," Ginny said, slightly confused.

"Well, this, Miss Weasley will be exactly the same. You see that gown you're wearing is perfect. Women won't think you're trying too hard or dressed inappropriately since you're fully covered, minus that lovely split." Lucius smirked as she tried to hold the split close with one hand. "Men, on the other hand, will spend the entire night wondering about what is hidden underneath. They will stare and question whether your entire gown would fall apart if they were to tug on the knot on your shoulder."

"It wouldn't," Ginny said hastily.

"Ah, but this business, Miss Weasley, is built on illusion and distractions. Your dress provides an illusion, and you, my dearest, are a distraction." Lucius smiled sardonically. "In fact, you are more of a distraction than I could have ever dreamt you to be."

Ginny pondered his words and wondered what his final statement meant. Between the conversation they had the day before about him being a Death Eater and the current one, Lucius Malfoy was turning out to be quite a conundrum. She didn't think that he meant that she was a distraction to him. Of course, he had agreed with Hermione earlier in the evening. And there was the fact that his voice was making her repress shudders. Suddenly, she could feel heat suffusing her cheeks, and she hoped that it would be passed off as her makeup.

They entered the ballroom through a set of gilded double doors, the sound of classical music assaulting them as soon as they stepped inside. There were many guests in attendance, but Ginny assumed this was only half of them. They had, after all, arrived at seven, which was when the event started so she supposed there would be a few late stragglers as well. A lady dressed in a royal blue gown and gaudy accessories greeted them at the door.

"Lord Malfoy, how lovely of you to come," she simpered.

"I would not miss the opportunity to help those who are less fortunate than I, Mrs. Well-Beloved Goyle," Lucius said charmingly. "May I introduce you to Ginevra Weasley. She is my new assistant."

"Ah, yes, Ms. Weasley," Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle said with a nod, her eyes appraising Ginny.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle. Your home is beautiful," Ginny lied politely. "The turquoise accents in the entrance are wonderful."

She beamed. "Thank you. I just had it redone."

"It's great," Ginny said, smiling.

"Amelia will lead you to your table," she said, motioning to one of the women standing next to her in black and white. "Lord Malfoy, Dennis is around here somewhere. I believe he wanted to speak with you."

Lucius nodded before following behind Amelia. "Dennis is—"

"Her husband," Ginny finished for him. She felt a sense of triumph when he raised his eyebrow. "Dennis Goyle is a land owner, big in the agricultural business. He's also not an investor in the company."

"I see you did your research," Lucius said shortly. "Yes, he has not invested, though I have been trying to persuade him. He is a man who doesn't think much of business and mostly of farming."

Ginny bit her lip, thinking of all the times Draco had insulted her family about being akin to farmers and peasants. She remembered one such interaction in her sixth year and wondered why Goyle didn't react as he had been nearby at the time. Surely that was an insult to his family as well. But the Malfoys always seemed to get away with murder.

"He has money though. And our company can never have too much money," Lucius said, pulling out her chair for her. "Miss Weasley."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said, sitting down.

Lucius sat next to her, and they remained in silence, the seats around them empty. Most of the other tables had more than one guest already seated, and they were in conversation. The table next to theirs was talking about the weather, and Ginny repressed the urge to snigger at the forced politeness radiating from one of the older women.

"Lucius, my old friend!"

Ginny sat up straighter when Darius Harper sat down at the table, his eyes blatantly sweeping over Ginny. She suppressed a shudder of disgust, placing a polite smile on her face. It was hard, especially considering the way Darius was leering at her, even while conversing with Lucius. She wanted nothing more than to slap him.

"Ahem, Darius, I do hope you don't intend to make my assistant uncomfortable all evening. I would hate to have to bother our hostess about a seating change," Lucius said, his eyes cold.

"Sorry to have offended you, Ms. Weasley," Darius said dryly.

Ginny simply nodded.

"And where is your wife this evening, Lucius?" asked Darius pointedly.

"Checking in to her hotel in Paris, I imagine," Lucius answered. "Cheap shots at my marriage now, Darius? You'll have to explain this hostility towards me at some point."

"You mistake curiosity for hostility, my old friend," Darius said in a placating manner.

"I'm sure," Lucius said drolly.

The conversation halted when a sudden high-pitched tittering occurred behind them. Before Ginny could turn and see what was happening, she saw Lucius stiffen and sigh, his jaw clenching with an audible click of his teeth—the rest of his face expressionless. She knew by that expression what was behind her, Draco Malfoy. She also discerned that he was not supposed to be in attendance. Ginny let out a small sigh of her own, bracing herself for a long evening ahead. It was bad enough that this would be her first society function, but it was now made infinitely worst by the presence of Draco Malfoy.

"Lord Malfoy, you didn't tell me that your son would be in attendance."

Lucius stood to greet the hostess. "It seems he has surprised us all, Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle."

"Well, I will shift around to make room for him at your table." Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle, her arm wrapped around Draco's smiled warmly at Lucius. "We are always happy to accommodate young interest in our fundraiser."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle," Draco drawled.

Ginny, for the first time since he had entered the room discreetly turned and glanced at Draco. He presented a striking and imposing figure in a black tuxedo, a crisp white shirt underneath his jacket. Around his neck was a bow tie, perfectly positioned. Again, Ginny thought it unfair that he always seemed like he walked out of the pages of the latest Witch's Weekly, and when she glanced at his face, she saw the smug expression that told her he would agree with her assertion.

"Thank you for the escort, dear," Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle said, patting Draco's arm. "Mr. Harper, I didn't see you come in. I thought your wife was here alone."

"Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle, perhaps we should go find her together," Darius said. "Ms. Weasley it's been delightful. Lucius."

"Darius," Lucius said stiffly.

With that, Darius left, and Draco took a seat next to his father, appraising her. "Care to stand and give me a full look, Weasley? I would be _delighted_ to see how money can mask your lack of beauty."

"Draco, stop toying with my assistant," Lucius said.

"It's alright, Mr. Malfoy. I have come to terms with the fact that your son is, with all due respect, rude and inappropriate." Ginny smiled and stood, the two men coming to their feet immediately. "If you'll excuse me, I must head to the powder room before the dinner officially starts."

Without looking back, Ginny spun and crossed the room, her head held high. She knew that she might end up getting reprimanded for her description of Draco's character. However, she also knew that there was a slight possibility that Lucius would find it amusing. She hoped that he would go with the latter instead of the former. She paused on her trek out the doors to ask about the powder room before going down the hall and pausing in front of a single white door.

"Oh, pardon me." Ginny almost bumped into someone exiting the room.

"No fault of yours, love."

Ginny eyed the man in front of her, eyebrows furrowed. He looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place where she had seen him before. She cocked her head to the side, scanning his face. He was muscular, his jaw large but in proportion with the rest of his face. He was also tall, so much so that she realized she was looking up at him.

"I should have just used my own bathroom. I'm sure this is going to be filled with ladies soon," he said, his voice a deep baritone. "Gregory Goyle."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and she shook his hand. "Gregory Goyle? You've changed."

"Do we know one another?" he asked. Then he laughed. "I should have known. Red hair, you must be a Weasley."

"Redheads aren't that rare," Ginny said, bristling at his laughter.

He raised his hands defensively. "I'm not making fun, Weasley. I was only making an observation."

"If you'll excuse me," she said politely, pointing to the door behind him.

"Sorry," he said, stepping to the side. "I really meant no offense."

"And I really do need the bathroom," Ginny said with a lopsided smile.

She entered the bathroom, rolling her eyes at the garish display. Clearly money did not equal taste in the Goyle home. The bathroom, which held an impressively large mirror, was decked out in turquoise and gold like the entrance. The long counter upon which the sink rested was turquoise marble and had an array of beauty and refreshing potions arranged in neat little baskets. She quickly used the bathroom, washing her hands and casting a simple cooling charm on herself. The ballroom was getting warm.

With one last look in the mirror to ensure everything was in order, she exited the bathroom, once again, almost bumping into Goyle. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, waiting for her it seemed. She did her best to remain aloof, although she was a bit surprised and slightly annoyed. The last thing she wanted was another Slytherin annoying her throughout the evening.

He shot her a sheepish smile. "I wouldn't be a gentleman if I didn't escort you back to the ballroom."

"Uhm, thanks," Ginny said. She hesitantly tucked her arm in his, allowing him to lead her down the hall. "So, have things been well?"

He laughed. "The awkward small talk."

"You didn't seem inclined to talk first," Ginny huffed.

"Things have been well, yes," he answered, patting his now flat stomach. "I lost a little weight, working out on the farms."

"You work?" She mentally slapped herself for being so rude. "Sorry."

"Don't sound so surprised," he said. "I may not have been much in school, but magic has never given me as much joy as working out on the farm as silly as that sounds."

"And your circle of friends accept this?" asked Ginny, turning her head to the side. "Not to be rude, but they don't seem to be the most accepting bunch."

"Slytherins are tricky to understand, Weasley—"

"Ginny," she interrupted. "Call me Ginny."

"Then you have to call me Gregory or Greg. Whatever suits your fancy," he said nonchalantly. "As I was saying, my friends are hard to understand. But there is one thing they understand, which is brute force. I may have lost a little weigh, but I'm still bigger. In more ways than one."

Ginny slapped his arm. "Now you're being crude."

"Not crude, truthful," he amended.

"If all Slytherins were like you, there wouldn't have been such a rift between our houses," Ginny said as they entered the ballroom.

It was now brimming with people, and she gazed around the room, taking in the scenery. She had not been able to linger and look while on Lucius's arm. Chandeliers hung from a white ceiling, candles flickering and casting a golden glow on the room. Pillars lined the outer walls of the room, doors visible on the other side of them. A stage sat at the front of the room, an orchestra playing an upbeat classical song. The dance floor was empty, except for the people crossing it to greet one another at the tables that surrounded it. Unlike the entrance hall and bathroom, the decor was simple and tasteful.

"May I escort you to your table, Ginny?"

Ginny turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I was lost in thought. Yes, you may. I'm over there, with the Malfoys."

Greg's eyebrows shot up. "The Malfoys?"

"Nothing as scandalous as you are thinking," Ginny admonished. "I'm Mr. Malfoy's—Lucius's— new assistant."

"Ah right, Romilda Vane," Greg said with a chuckle. "Draco always did know how to pick them."

"I've noticed," Ginny said wryly.

"Draco, you old sot," Greg greeted. He clapped the blond on his back before turning to Lucius. "Lord Malfoy."

"Hello, Gregory," Lucius said politely, raising an eyebrow at Ginny. "I see you've found my assistant."

"I would be derelict in my duty as the host's son if I didn't make sure she made it safely back to her table," Greg said, pulling out Ginny's chair so she could sit.

"Yes, I wouldn't put it past Weasley to get lost and stumble upon all the wrong sorts," Draco drawled, nodding to Greg.

"I didn't need to get lost in order to find the 'wrong sorts,'" Ginny shot back.

Greg laughed. "I feel like I'm back in Hogwarts. You two used to get up to all sorts of trouble in school. I remember when Draco, here, was sneezing bats—"

"I think that's quite enough," Draco said, his tone icy.

"No, I would be delighted for Gregory to regale me with some tales of your childhood antics," Lucius said curiously. "Sneezing bats?"

"Ginny—"

"Ginny is it?" questioned Draco amusedly. "Is Father going to have to check the closets for his assistant later?"

"You and I both know she's not my type, Draco," Greg said laughingly. "She's too feisty for me. You, howe—"

"I don't think so," Lucius growled.

Greg cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, Ginny, here, hexed Draco with the Bat Bogey hex, and none of us could figure out the counter-jinx. He was sneezing bats for hours until it wore off because he didn't want to go to Madame Pomfrey."

"Is that so?" Lucius turned his gaze to Ginny. "I suppose I've been correct in my assumption that you will hex my son, if he keeps irritating you."

Ginny smiled guardedly. "I have a bit of control over my temperament now."

"I beg to differ," Lucius said, turning back to Greg.

Greg coughed awkwardly before nodding to the three. "I better go find my parents. I think dinner is about to start."

Sure enough, as soon as Greg walked away, Darius Harper came back with his wife, who Ginny thought was quite pretty. She imagined, _hoped_, that Harper would have a terribly ugly wife to match his ugly personality. Unfortunately, Vivian Harper was anything but ugly. She had a slightly curvy figure with black hair that dangled at her hip, the curls seeming to shimmer under the glow of the candle-lit chandeliers. Her smile was bright as she was introduced to the occupants of the table, giving them all a small kiss on the cheek before sitting down next to Ginny.

"How are the negotiations with Madam Malkins proceeding, Lucius?" Darius asked.

"Men, always with the business," Vivian mock whispered.

"Weasley here has to be a man for the evening too, though I doubt that will make much of a difference from her day to day life. She is my father's secretary after all," Draco said flippantly, leaning back in his chair.

Vivian laughed lightly. "Draco, I am sure your mother wouldn't approve of such a slight against a lady."

"A lady perhaps but not—"

"Assistant, not secretary. We must give credit where credit is due," Darius interjected snidely.

Ginny clamped down on her right wrist as it inched towards her purse. "Thank you, Mr. Harper. I appreciate the distinction."

"Of course you do," he replied with a smile.

"I am currently debating between my choices, Darius. I am not sure whether we will go with Madam Malkins or simply start off with Twilfit and Tattings. Narcissa has a preference for the latter," Lucius said.

"As do I," Vivian said, pressing her champagne flute to her lips. "Her clothing isn't manufactured. All her designs are handmade by her staff, who she handpicked. In fact, we just had a discussion about her clothing at my latest tea party."

"Yes, but Madam Malkins earns more money than Twilfit and Tattings. The money is important," Darius said.

"Miss Weasley, what is your opinion on the matter? You are a woman," Lucius said, ignoring Draco's snort.

Ginny had been attempting to blend in with the decor, hoping that the night would pass swiftly. The last thing she expected was for Lucius to ask for her opinion, especially when he had never done so before. She caught a glint in his eye and knew that it was some sort of test. The slight quirk of his lip, unnoticeable to the untrained eye, confirmed her thoughts.

Shooting Draco a cool gaze, she turned to Lucius and said, "It depends on what kind of statement you would like to make."

"Continue," Lucius said imploringly.

"Well, if you're hoping to sneak up on the retail industry, I would suggest Twilfit and Tattings or even Gladrags. They both have smaller sales numbers, and you could use that as a selling point for acquiring them under the Malfoy International umbrella." Ginny paused to sip her champagne, amused by Darius's shocked stare. "It would also help with acquiring Madam Malkin's in the long run. There is no doubt that with the proper handling, both Twilfit and Tattings and Gladrags could surpass Madam Malkins in sales. You could use that to show how much help Malfoy International could lend to the company."

Lucius nodded, smirking at Darius. "I believe Miss Weasley has the better idea, Darius. This is yet another reason why I would never relinquish her to you."

"Is that so?" Vivian turned to her husband. "I wasn't aware you were in need of a new assistant, Darius?"

"I wasn't—it was . . ." Darius trailed off.

Ginny looked forward to see what his response would be, but two couples sat at their table and introductions were made. Ginny didn't recognize either man, but she gathered that one did his business in Italy while the other was a Healer. She was also heartened to see that the women were both in the workforce, one a Healer's Aide and the other managing a Wizarding orphanage in Italy. There was no mention of tea parties or clothing as the women began to converse, and when dinner arrived, Ginny began to feel slightly at ease with the low hum of conversation comforting her.

When the food was cleared, however, her comfort fled. Apparently, there were rules in upper society that governed what was appropriate to speak about over food. However, once the food was gone, the small talk about the orphanage, which Ginny had found fascinating, ceased and talk of business became commonplace once more. Had it been just about business, Ginny wouldn't have felt the least bit intimidated. At the sight of the one of the couples standing to join others on the dance floor, however, she cowered.

As a rule, Ginny had kept clear of dances. The disastrous Yule Ball in her third year had been enough to make her never want to step foot on a dance floor again, and she was sure most people would feel the same. Her feet had been so swollen and bruised the morning after the dance that she had been forced to go to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had clucked her tongue and mumbled about young men, who didn't take proper dance lessons.

"Perhaps we could arrange a meeting."

Lucius's statement snapped Ginny from her thoughts, and she tuned into the conversation he was having with Francesca Gallo, a slender woman with a hardened face. She didn't seem to be a person who would run an orphanage until she smiled. Her smile was exceedingly warm and comforting, reminding Ginny of Molly Weasley. She had the type of smile that would make a child feel better after a scraped knee or a scuffle with the boys.

"Miss Weasley used to work in the real estate department of our company. She could shed some light on the situation for you," Lucius said, his eyes darting to Ginny.

"I would love to be of help," she said after a beat of silence, resisting the urge to worry her lower lip.

"Did you work internationally?" asked Mrs. Gallo.

"We did acquire a few properties in Florence before I was removed from the department," Ginny said, ignoring Lucius's gaze. "Were you looking for a commercial property or residential?"

"Something residential but large enough for twenty-three children," she said, smiling at Ginny's expression. "Muggle orphanages have many more than Wizarding ones. I've been lucky to have some of my children adopted but not enough."

"That might have a lot more to do with lack of awareness than willingness," Ginny said. "I've only ever heard of Muggle orphanages."

Mrs. Gallo glanced at her husband briefly, communicating something that Ginny could not decipher. "There really is no way of advertising an orphanage."

"I believe that Malfoy International could help you with that as well," Ginny said, a satisfied smile appearing on her face when Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Our PR company would be happy to have you as a client, or, if you'd prefer, we have our hands in a few companies that could lend a hand."

"Miss Weasley is correct," Lucius said.

"I would love to arrange a meeting then," Mrs. Gallo said. She leaned forward. "And you said you did have properties available in Florence?"

"A few, yes," Ginny said, nodding. "I can send word to Lady Flint, who heads the real estate department. She would be able to get in touch with our branch in Italy, which would have a few more for you to look at."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Gallo said, clasping her hands together.

"I will have Miss Weasley owl you the information," Lucius said, nodding to Ginny.

"Now that business is over, perhaps my husband would be nice enough to ask me for a dance," Mrs. Gallo said with an affectionate laugh.

Mr. Gallo, a soft, gray haired man nodded. "Francesca, would you honor me with this dance?"

The other couples moved to join the dance, and Ginny caught Draco's eyes as he swallowed the last bit of his champagne. He gave her a sardonic smile before getting up and stalking away, pausing on his journey to speak to a brunette who had been eyeing him the entire night. She wondered how he knew, considering he hadn't even given the woman a fleeting look the entire time they ate dinner, not that she had been watching him.

"I believe Dennis is waiting for us," Lucius said, standing and, much to her surprise, helping her from her seat. "I have a few things to discuss with him."

"Of course," Ginny replied. She smoothed the skirt of her dress before following him, one hand clutching the skirt of her dress in an attempt to prevent herself from flashing too much leg. "Will you be trying to get him to invest, sir?"

Lucius glanced at her, his eyes flitting to the material clamped between her fingers with amusement. "I've been trying to get Dennis to invest for years now, and he is not inclined to do so. However, he has profited over the past few months, and he isn't likely to stop that recent trend. Malfoy International has dabbled in the food industry. I am sure we can obtain him some new clients, perhaps a few international ones as well. Expand his business as we usually do."

"Farming is a booming business, then?" questioned Ginny, her tone suggesting curiosity rather than humor.

"Dennis has found that he is now able to provide produce to buyers he was not able to before. His supplies were being used elsewhere," Lucius said cryptically.

But Ginny didn't need help to decipher his meaning. She suspected that the Goyles had been providing produce for the dark lord and his followers. It didn't surprise her as much as she thought it would. Death Eaters were people too. They had to eat, and their food did not materialize from thin air, not even with the use of magic and wand waving.

They approached the host and hostess, and Ginny saw Greg look at her and smile. She returned the gesture, unaware of the fact that Lucius watched the exchange with a certain amount of interest. Had she been aware, she would have surely questioned his cunning smile and the glint in his eyes that hinted at a plan or trouble, possibly both.

"Lucius, wonderful to see you," Mr. Goyle said. He took Lucius's hand in his larger one, pumping it vigorously. "I have been meaning to schedule an appointment to see you."

"Appointments aren't needed for old friends," Lucius said, removing his hand quickly. "Please, meet my new assistant, Ginevra Weasley."

Ginny got the vague sense that this was not true, but she kept her mouth shut, smiling as she was introduced. "It's good to meet you, Mr. Goyle."

"Weasley, eh? Must be an interesting work dynamic," Mr. Goyle said, his voice devoid of any amusement. It was a simple statement. "This is my son Gregory and my wife Darlene."

"We've met," Ginny said, nodding to both.

"Gregory, would you please take my assistant for a spin around the dance floor? I dare say she will be bored with two old friends catching up," Lucius said charmingly.

"That's not—"

"Miss Weasley, I insist," Lucius said with a hardened stare.

She knew then that she was to be a distraction. His speech on the walk from the entrance hall to the ballroom sounded in her head, and she looked at Greg with a defeated expression. She didn't know what sort of distraction or illusion she was to be serving, but her boss had given her an order. There was nothing to do but comply.

Greg held out his hand with a slight a bow. "Ms. Weasley, would you do me the honor of this dance?"

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her into him and escort her to the dance floor. The entire situation was awkward, and she did her best to maintain a cool demeanor as he placed her hand in his, the skirt of her dress falling down and revealing the lengthy split. His other hand rested on her waist, and she placed her hand on his shoulder, the silk of her purse dampening with the perspiration on her palm.

"Relax," he murmured. "I may look large and clumsy, but my mother ensured that I take dance lessons from an early age. She wanted to make sure I didn't turn out to be as oafish as I looked."

Ginny snorted. "It's not you that I'm worried about."

"Even if you do step on my toes, I doubt you would do too much damage," he said cheekily. "Now try and enjoy the dance. Mr. Malfoy seemed bent on arranging it."

A sound somewhere between a snort of agreement and one of indignation escaped her mouth. She saw Lucius staring at them from across the room, waving towards them as if he were showcasing the dancing couple. She still had no idea what purpose her dance with Greg would serve. Perhaps he intended on distracting them with the dance that Mr. Goyle didn't realize what he was agreeing to. Whatever the purpose, Ginny felt uneasy playing the part of a pawn in a chess game.

"Off in your own world?"

Ginny shot him an apologetic glance, noticing that the dance really wasn't all that bad. It could have been worst.

"I'm a little distracted, yes," Ginny admitted.

"How has working with the Malfoys been?" asked Greg politely.

"I don't think I could describe it, even if I tried," Ginny deadpanned.

"They are a different breed," Greg said offhandedly.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Ginny after they drifted into silence.

Greg shrugged, the movement causing her to clench her purse more tightly. "I've been friends with Draco since we were in diapers. He's hard to understand, but when you do, you're awed by him."

Ginny didn't think she could ever feel anything but annoyance and dislike for Draco Malfoy, but she humored Greg. "Is that why you were so . . . devoted to him at school?"

"That's a mild way of putting it, isn't it?" Greg laughed, slipping into quiet thought for a moment. "I'm sure everyone noticed how Vince and I came up short in the intelligence department. Don't try and deny that you called us stupid one time or another."

Ginny looked down to hide her pink cheeks.

"Draco never did that," Greg said softly. "Sometimes in public, he made a show of it, and we went along. We learned as children that being underestimated was the best thing for us. No matter the situation, it gave us an edge of surprise."

"And this is what you learned as a child?" questioned Ginny incredulously.

"Some children read fairytales, and some children learn the art of dueling and defending," Greg said, the smile on his face decidedly lacking in humor. "Alas, the dance has come to an end."

The music switched as she threaded her arm through his, allowing him to escort her back to where his parents and Lucius stood. The rest of the night her thoughts drifted to what Greg said and the latest insight into the workings of the Malfoy family. She couldn't imagine, especially considering her own family, being taught about deception as a child. The absurd imagery of Lucius Malfoy reading Draco a dark arts textbook as a bedtime story popped into her head, and she had to bite back laughter.

"Miss Weasley, Dennis will be meeting with me on Monday morning at ten. I trust you can arrange the schedule appropriately?"

"Uhm—yes, I can," Ginny said, barely managing not to stutter. She still couldn't shake the image. "I will make sure you are available."

"I would be happy to reschedule if you cannot," Mr. Goyle interrupted.

"It won't be an issue," Lucius said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Draco approach his friend, the two of them leaning together to share words. A smile bloomed on Greg's face in response to what Draco said, and she watched as the blond smirked widely, pleased about something. But as soon as the expression came, it dropped, and he was staring at Greg incredulously. When he looked up, she blushed and hastily turned her head a fraction, hoping that he hadn't noticed her gaze out of his peripheral vision.

"Weasley, dance with me."

Ginny turned a glare on him. "Pardon?"

"Dancing, Weasley, an activity between two people—"

"I know what it is, Malfoy," she snapped.

"Miss Weasley is working Draco," Lucius said, jaw clenched.

"But she had time to dance with Greg. I would be highly offended if she didn't extend me the same courtesy," Draco said coolly. "Or was there a special allowance for a dance with Greg? I wonder what it could be."

"Don't be absurd," Lucius said tightly. He nodded to Ginny.

"My feet are rather tired at the moment," Ginny said feebly.

"Miss Weasley," Lucius said in a tone that reminded her of Professor Snape. He shot Draco a hard stare. "Perhaps you could use some of your manners and ask properly, Draco."

"Ms. Weasley, would you do me the courtesy of sharing a dance with me?" he asked mockingly sweet.

"Of course," Ginny said through gritted teeth.

She counted to ten in her head, trying to recall all the other tips Hermione had given her to control her Weasley temper. In the face of Draco Malfoy, her control seemed to slip from her grasp, and she wanted to do nothing more than maim him. The delightful images that brought to mind stuck with her until he pulled her flush against him, his hand lightly rubbing against her hip.

"I would appreciate if we kept a proper distance," Ginny said with a huff.

Her attempt to step back from him was thwarted as his hand moved from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her to him. His other hand plucked her arm from its position sandwiched between them, grasping it firmly, and she had no choice but to place her other hand on his shoulder. The intimacy of the position wasn't lost on her, and she tried to not to feel the hard planes of his chest pressed against her or the muscles that rested beneath the palm on his shoulder.

"Tell me, Weasley, are you always this tense?" he asked amusedly.

"Only in your presence," she replied, her eyes fixated on his shoulder. "Are you always so irritating?"

"I don't think I would call myself irritating," he said thoughtfully. "Handsome, charming, dapper, intelligent—"

"You must be describing your dream partner. Is he around?" She smiled up at him. "I could put in a good word for you."

"I knew Weasleys were fun to laugh at, but I never thought you would have a sense of humor as well," he rebuffed.

"Humor? I said nothing in jest, Malfoy. If he's not here, we could take out a personal ad," she said seriously. "Or is it someone we've already come across? Greg, perhaps?"

"Wouldn't it hurt his feelings to know how you truly feel about him," Draco said, though she felt his arms tighten around her. "He thought he was making a friend, and here you are teasing him."

She noticed that though his tone was mocking, his eyes were serious and his body tense. Greg's words came back to her, and she realized that for all his faults, Draco seemed genuinely concerned for his friend. She also came to the realization that they had been talking about her earlier, and Ginny didn't need confirmation to know that Greg had probably said something nice about her, hence Draco's disbelieving expression.

"I would be happy to have him as a friend," Ginny said, keeping her tone light yet serious. "He seems like a nice guy."

Draco sneered. "I doubt there are many here who would take your opinions into consideration."

"Of course not. I am a lowly Weasley after all," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes. "Will you ever change your quips, Malfoy?"

He stepped back with a shake of his head and a small smirk. "Who said anything about being a Weasley? I was referring to the fact that you are relatively unknown to these people."

The song began to come to an end, and Ginny, still smarting from earlier in the week when he had touched her, smiled up at him. "Thank you for the dance, Mr. Malfoy."

He seemed startled for a moment before her heel came down on his foot, a quiet hiss streaming from his mouth. She removed her heel from his shoe, stepping back and looking at him with fake concern shining in her eyes. Years of being the youngest and only girl in a family full of boys had given her plenty of practice in the act of faking innocence, and she pressed her hand to his shoulder in a soothing gesture.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she simpered. "I should have warned you that I am an awful dancer."

He scowled, staring down at the round indent in his shoe. "I am sure you did not mean to do so."

"Why ever would I do such a thing?" Ginny patted his arm lightly. "I hope it doesn't bruise. Thank you ever so much for the dance."

She gathered the skirt of her dress and walked away with a smile on her face. He would think twice before he ever touched any part of her body again.

"What happened here?" asked Lucius as they approached, Draco hobbling slightly.

"I'm afraid I was a bit of a klutz and stepped on his toes," Ginny said sheepishly. She turned back to Draco. "I do hope you forgive me. I would hate to think that I have upset you or ruined your night."

"I wouldn't dream of letting you ruin my night," he drawled, leaning heavily on his left foot.

Lucius cleared his throat from behind her, and she moved to his side, noting the concerned look he shot his son. "We can't have you limping around all night. I think it's best you go home."

"I'm fine," Draco said coldly.

"Better to be safe than sorry," Mrs. Wellbeloved-Goyle chimed in. "Those things have a nasty habit of bruising."

Ginny could see him grind his teeth and lowered her head to hide a grin.

"The house elves at the manor will assist you with finding the proper salve," Lucius said, not hiding the amusement in his voice. "Go on. Your mother would never forgive me if I didn't send you home."

"Good evening," Draco said to the assembly, shooting Ginny a fleeting glare.

She simply waved. "Have a good night."

"Do try not to look so smug, Miss Weasley. You don't act nearly as well as you think you do," Lucius murmured softly.

Ginny couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips, but she quickly schooled her expression. "Sir?"

"Perhaps all hope is not lost with you," Lucius said before turning his focus back to Dennis Goyle.

The rest of the night went by fairly well after that incident, and Ginny found she didn't mind the event as much as she thought she would. Greg introduced her to a few of his friends, and she spoke to Francesca Gallo once more, the Italian woman having a dark sense of humor. And by the time the end of the night rolled around, she was having a good time, despite the fact that it was supposed to be a work function. Lucius didn't seem to mind her socializing, and she suspected that it helped him, especially concerning Francesca Gallo, who was now planning on enlisting Malfoy International services despite the fact that she had yet to meet with anyone.

"I trust that your experience was better than expected?" Lucius waited for her to clasp her robes, holding out his arm to escort her down the stairs.

"It was," Ginny conceded.

They approached the Portkey point, and Lucius did not let go of her arm, surprising Ginny. "I will take you home, Miss Weasley. My wife informed me that you have a low tolerance for alcohol, and I would rather not be blamed for having you splinch yourself."

Ginny had no time to answer as she felt the familiar tug on her stomach, the Portkey depositing them on the side street right next to her building. Lucius didn't say anything, simply leading her into her building and to her doorstep in uneasy silence. Ginny had the faintest idea that he was thinking about something, and by the dead silence, she knew it could be nothing good.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said, unlocking her door.

He nodded. "Have a good night, Miss Weasley."

"You too," she said lightly.

He moved to walk away, pausing to look back and say. "Miss Weasley, while I was amused at your antics with my son, I would appreciate if you kept your contract in mind."

"Sir—"

"You did well tonight, and I would hate to lose an assistant because of my son's thrill for the chase," he said softly, disappearing down the steps before she could utter another word.

She entered her flat in a daze, her mind not comprehending what had just happened. She had stomped on Draco's foot, and Lucius somehow thought that meant she would want to sleep with Draco. Shaking her head in wonder, she locked her doors and went to her bedroom, intent on getting a good night's sleep and enjoying a Sunday lie in. She refused to let Lucius Malfoy ruin her one day off. But she couldn't help but ponder the absurdity of his final statement, still shaking her head later that night as she turned the lights off and climbed beneath her sheets.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Welcome to New York

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

Monday morning dawned crisp and clear, the remnants of Sunday's rain completely gone. Ginny woke with a start, her eyes swiveling to the enchanted book on her side table that was emitting a shriek that could wake the entire neighborhood. In fact, she could hear the person below her thumping their ceiling to get her attention. She grabbed the book and opened it, blearily rubbing her eyes to rid her of the last vestiges of sleep. Even with her vigorous rub, it took her a minute of rapid blinking to clear away the early morning blurriness. And it was certainly early morning, if the lack of sun had anything to say about the matter.

She squinted and held the book up to the dim street lamp light streaming through the window, quickly scanning the communication page.

_Report to the office immediately. It is a matter of urgency._

_Lucius Malfoy_

Feeling the relaxed mood of her lazy Sunday slipping away, Ginny rolled out of bed, cursing as she tripped over one of the bags on the floor, barely able to catch herself before falling on all fours. Another curse left her mouth when she realized her wand was on her bedside, and she started to walk back to her bed. Unfortunately, due to the lack of lighting, she tumbled over a stack of boxes, falling with a loud squeak onto her mattress. To say it was a bad start to the morning would have been taking it lightly.

"Fucking Malfoys," she muttered angrily, rolling over onto her back.

The rest of the morning passed somewhat uneventfully after she managed to cast a quick _Lumos._ She had rifled through the bags and picked the first thing she came across, not bothering to work too hard on her appearance. A short shower, a hastily drank cup of tea, and a quick hair charm had Ginny running to the Floo, saying her destination and stepping into the green flames. Walking to the lifts, she murmured a cleaning charm, ridding the beige and peach skirt suit of any soot that clung to her. And by the time she reached to her office, her shirt and skirt were straightened and her face had a bare minimum of makeup thanks to a charm in the lift.

"You certainly took your time," Lucius said from his office.

Ginny glanced out the window and then to the clock on her desk, rolling her eyes. It was a quarter to six. The sun had yet to rise, and dew was still settling in on the grass. But she didn't point this out to her employer, simply placing her purse on her desk and removing her journal. She was not a morning person, and she did not feel like getting fired because she only consumed one cup of tea instead of two.

"An emergency, sir?" she murmured, opening her book and sitting down in his office.

"Yes, you will need to make arrangements for us to travel to New York," Lucius said.

"New York?" Ginny asked.

"Am I going to have to give you a geography lesson, Miss Weasley?" Lucius looked up from his desk with a raised eyebrow.

"No, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, scribbling it down in her journal. "When will we be going?"

"Immediately," Lucius said, closing a folder loudly before ruffling through some parchments. "A financial associate will be coming with us, and I suspect that we will be there for the next few days."

"Days?" Ginny repeated.

"Are you ill? Do you have an incapability to process things without parroting them back to me?" Lucius sneered as he stood from his seat and walked over to his bookshelf.

"Sorry, sir," Ginny said with an angry flush, though she didn't know who she was angry with.

"I would like to leave by noon," Lucius said. "I suspect that should give you enough time to make the arrangements, pack, and be back here."

"Of course," Ginny said unsurely.

She left the office, cursing as she looked at the time. There would be no one in the transportation department to help her at this hour. She was at a lost as to what to do. The transportation department handled all transactions dealing with travel and did as directed by whoever needed them. She bit her lip and gathered her courage, turning on her heel and entering Lucius's office.

"Sir?"

Lucius looked up. "I'm assuming you have some inane question that needs answering."

"I'm not sure how to handle the transportation without someone from the department being in office," Ginny said, looking Lucius in the eye.

"Miss Weasley, I will assume responsibility for the grave error I have committed in not informing you of the fact that I don't care if my staff gets sleep," he said, dipping his quill into the inkwell. "Wake up the entire building and have them come in for all I care. I want results, and I don't care how it comes about."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, walking out.

She disliked the idea of having to give anyone a rude wake up call. However, it was her head on the line, and she didn't want to see it get chopped off. So with a sad sigh, she scribbled a letter to the only person she knew in the department and slipped it into an envelope. Large letters on the front spelled out 'URGENT,' and she carried it over to Annabelle, who seemed to be waiting for her, and gave it to the owl.

"This is extremely important," Ginny whispered to the owl. "I will give you a whole bowl of treats if you promise to get this to Eddie Carmichael and not leave until he responds."

Annabelle nipped her fingers, and she took this as consent. She watched the bird fly away and hoped that Annabelle was as smart as Lucius made her out to be.

"I'll need you to send a letter to my son, informing him of the trip. He is acting President of Malfoy International when I am away," Lucius called from his office.

Ginny snorted and murmured, "Of course."

"Like it or not, Miss Weasley, my son is an astute businessman and did not get the job on his name alone," Lucius drawled.

Ginny blushed. "Of course not, sir. Will he be standing in on the meetings in your stead?"

"Yes, Miss Weasley." Ginny peeked into Lucius's office and saw him rubbing his temples. "I am unsure of who to inform since he is, at the moment, out of a secretary."

She kept her mouth shut on that subject. "I can make a copy of my schedule pages and send it along with the letter."

"Yes, that will do," Lucius said.

"Do you have any comments on the meeting you would like me to send as well?"

Lucius leaned back and nodded. "I think so. I will dictate."

Ginny grabbed her journal from her desk and entered his office, sitting in the chair and writing down Lucius's statements. She dipped her head lower so that he wouldn't see her smile when he repeated her idea about the clothing store. It was gratifying to note that though he had been testing her, he had also been listening to her as well. She finished taking notes and slipped away, writing them out in coherent sentences and packaging them along with a copy of her schedule and a letter of explanation.

As soon as she finished slipping the parchment into a heavy envelope and addressing it, Annabelle flew in with a mangled piece of parchment in her grasp. Ginny took it with raised eyebrows, opening her desk drawer and supplying Annabelle with a handful of treats.

_I'll be in my office in ten minutes. Your bloody bird is crazy._

_\- Eddie Carmichael _

"Thanks, girl." Ginny rubbed Annabelle's neck before lifting the letter for Draco. "Do you think you could do me another favor?"

Annabelle ate a few treats and hovered so Ginny could put the letter in her claws. When Annabelle flew off, Ginny stood and cleaned her desk, informing Lucius she was heading to the transportation department to sort out the arrangements. He made a dismissive sound, and she left without a backwards glance.

An hour later, after having a discussion with a harried, disgruntled Eddie Carmichael, Ginny made her way back to the office, her trusty journal in one hand and a pamphlet about the hotel in another. The Portkeys were still being arranged, but Eddie had promised that he would bring them up as soon as he got the approval letter for international travel. Apparently, Malfoy International donated a hefty sum to the transportation department of the Ministry and all requests were expedited—to within an hour. She wondered how ludicrous the amount must be to grant such an honor.

"Here is the information for the hotel we'll be staying at. Edd—Mr. Carmichael assured me this was your usual hotel when you go to New York for business," Ginny said, placing the pamphlet in front of him. "I Floo called and ensured early check in and reservations."

"Which room?"

"The Monarch Suite," Ginny said, trying not to let her shock at the absurd amount of money spent show. "I reserved the room for three nights but informed them it might be needed for a longer amount of time."

"And you reserved two rooms, one for yourself and the associate?" asked Lucius, carefully folding a letter and sliding it into an envelope. "Suites, Miss Weasley? Your position does afford you luxuries that I am sure you could not possibly fathom."

"Yes," Ginny said. "Mr. Carmichael explained your travel customs to me."

"Good," Lucius said. He waved his hand. "I suggest you go home and retrieve your belongings, Miss Weasley. We have a busy few days ahead of us."

"I will be back shortly," Ginny replied.

On her way home, she thought back to her conversation with Eddie, a Ravenclaw who had been two years ahead of her at Hogwarts. She had expected that Lucius would stay at the most expensive, prestigious hotel in New York. But she hadn't expected exactly what that entailed for her. The pamphlet she had been shown with the room information and pictures made her gape—and that was from a picture alone. Lucius's suite consisted of three rooms, four bathrooms, a kitchen, a terrace, a library, a music room, and two sitting rooms, all decorated in a royal fashion. The suites which Eddie had booked for her and whoever the associate was weren't as lavish but certainly more than she ever expected. After all, having a guest bathroom in a hotel room seemed like a truly ridiculous idea.

She entered her flat, quickly removing her time sensitive ward and entering her bedroom. Her battered, old trunk from her Hogwarts days was at the top of her closet, and she levitated it down, cringing when it plopped onto the floor with a dust cloud. She had been warned that her job would include extensive travel, but somehow she had not thought about the small details like luggage. With no time to fix it, she cast a quick cleaning spell before flipping it open.

Packing was an ordeal. Though she had time the day before to do it, she hadn't gotten around to unpacking the things that she had gotten on that trip with Narcissa. The bags still littered the floor, and boxes were stacked in her room and living room. So far, she had stuck with suits and dresses, things that she knew would go together. However, she had no idea what to do when it came to the separates. Figuring she would make sense of it in New York, she peeked through some of the bags, dumping satisfactory ones out on the bed.

Once done, she pointed her wand at the pile of clothes, yelling, "_Pack!"_

A dash through her apartment produced the necessary toiletries, which she hastily stuffed into what she figured was meant to be an evening bag. The shoes were next, and by the time she was through, her trunk was brimming, and she had to sit on it in order for it to close. She knew that she didn't need that much clothing, but, on the one hand, she didn't have outfits picked out.

She shrank her trunk and placed it into her handbag, giving the room one last glance. Her bed seemed to call to her when she looked at it, and she did contemplate the idea of crawling under the blankets and hiding. It was a far better prospect than traveling with Lucius Malfoy. But there was nothing to be done, and she shouldered her bag and warded her flat.

* * *

Four hours later, Ginny was standing in the lobby of the hotel. The Enchanted Tower was perhaps one of the most beautiful places that Ginny had ever seen. She hadn't been to many hotels in her life. There was the Leaky Cauldron and a hotel in Egypt as well as the Three Broomsticks after her apartment flooded. None of those hotels could even compare to the beauty of the Enchanted Tower, which was indeed a tower. For a moment, she could forget that she was here with Lucius Malfoy and, of all people, Marcus Flint.

"Welcome to the Enchanted Tower. I am Mildred, and I'm here to ensure that you have an enchanted stay." The woman behind the desk beamed. "May I have your name please?"

"The reservation is under Malfoy," Ginny said.

"Yes, I see. We have the Monarch suite for Mr. Lucius Malfoy and two Rose suites, one for Ms. Weasley and—"

"Mr. Flint," Ginny inserted dryly.

Mildred nodded and signed the parchment. "I see you are booked for three nights?"

"Yes, that's correct," Ginny replied.

"I have your keys right here." Mildred handed them over. "The number is on the key ring, and your personal house elves will be greeting you upon arrival. Your luggage will arrive in your room momentarily."

"Personal house elves?"

"A perk of the suite rooms." Mildred gave her a small wave. "Enjoy your stay, Ms. Weasley."

"Thank you," Ginny replied, wondering what having a personal house elf implied.

She made her way back to the two men conversing, her attention automatically focused on Marcus Flint. It had been months since she last saw him, the circumstances less than desirable. While staying at the Three Broomsticks when her apartment flooded, she had run into him while having dinner. A polite conversation about his aunt turned into a few drinks, which then turned into a snogging session outside her room door. If it hadn't been for an old man muttering about decorum, she would have probably invited him back to her room for a shag. A slight blush stole across her cheeks as Marcus looked up and grinned at her.

"Here you are, Mr. Malfoy." Ginny glanced at the key to make sure it was the right one and handed it to him. "Your luggage should be in your room when you arrive. And Mr. Flint, here you are."

"It's Marcus, love," he replied.

Ginny cleared her throat and turned back to Lucius. "I didn't inform the New York office we would be coming, as requested. And we are attending a fundraiser for the New York Knarls tonight, a Quodpot team. The company owns them."

"Is there some reason for our attendance?" Lucius rested both hands on his cane, an eyebrow raised. "American society doesn't interest me."

"Axel Gerber will be in attendance," Ginny replied. "He's in town to represent Germany at the meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, but he's also a fan of competitive games."

"Is the British Minister here?" asked Lucius.

"Minister Shacklebolt will be arriving this evening," Ginny said.

"Interesting," Lucius said, nodding. He pulled his sleeve up and looked at his watch. "Miss Weasley, arrange for the car to the New York office in an hour. I will collect you from outside your hotel room. Room number . . ."

Ginny checked her key. "1101."

"One hour, Miss Weasley."

With that, Lucius walked away, leaving Ginny to stand with Marcus, who had a smirk on his face. For some reason, her stomach sank at the sight of that smirk, which spelled nothing good. It was the same rogue smirk he had given her that led to them snogging outside her room door at the Three Broomsticks. It was the first time she had realized that his teeth had been fixed-if she hadn't noticed then, she certainly noticed when she was sandwiched between him and a door.

"Marcus." She nodded, making to step past him.

"I'm in room 1102. We're right across from one another. What are the odds?" He held her back with his arm out, his head tilted. "We should have dinner later."

"We're attending an event tonight," Ginny said, shaking her head. "We'll have to take a long, lengthy rain check."

"After dinner drinks," Marcus insisted.

"I have to go change." She sidestepped his arm and dashed to the lifts. "See you in a bit."

The ride to her room was silent, something she cherished. From the minute she had seen Marcus appear in Lucius's office, her trepidation about the trip had only increased. She did her best to greet him professionally and not cringe when he brushed his hand against hers. Whether or not Lucius saw, Ginny didn't know. But she did know that she had to keep on her toes with Marcus Flint roaming about.

She stepped onto her floor and walked down the lavish halls, twisting the key in the lock. At first glance, the room seemed relatively normal. But walking through the short entrance area and into the room itself, normality fled. The heavy drapes were thrown open, sunlight streaming in and reflecting off the gilded mirror, the marble tables, and the golden hued furniture. Double doors led into the room that boasted a large bed with white accents and mahogany furniture. The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the room as was the guest bathroom.

Peering out the window of her tower room, she got her first glance at the New York City skyline. Though they were staying in the Wizarding part of New York, the boundaries between Muggle and Wizarding world were less stringent, not to mention the two areas looked mostly the same. The Wizarding section blended into the extravagant buildings of the Muggle city, giving the entire skyline a cohesive look that Diagon Alley did not share with its Muggle counterpart.

A small pop interrupted her thoughts, and she jolted, startled by the sound.

"Hilly is sorry to be scaring Miss," the house elf said with a bow.

"It's not a problem." Ginny lowered the hand pressed to her chest and smiled at the house elf, decked out in a golden dress. "I'm Ginny."

"Welcome to the Rose suite, Miss Ginny. Hilly is here to help Miss in whatever she needs," Hilly said with a bow.

"Thank you," Ginny said unassertively. She wasn't a master at handling house elves. "I'm not sure—"

"Would Miss like Hilly to unpack her trunk?"

"If it's not a bother," Ginny said, trailing off as the house elf beamed.

"Hilly is happy to help."

Ginny moved out of the house elf's way and moved into the massive bathroom, vowing that later that night she would soak in the extravagant tub. The pristine white tub with numerous taps called out to her, and she sighed, opening the door to the shower to turn on warm water. As with almost everything in her life lately, she didn't have the time.

* * *

An hour later, Ginny had changed into a pair of plain black trousers with matching jacket. It was departure from what Narcissa would want her to wear, the pants not fitted enough after she loosened them, and her white shirt too plain. If Lucius disapproved, she couldn't tell by the expression on his face when she answered the door.

"Am I to believe you plan on going without shoes? I understand the Weasleys were accused of being barbarians, but I assumed that to be a slight against the family," Lucius drawled.

Ginny's cheeks flushed pink as she straightened her jacket. "I couldn't find my usual black shoes."

He raised an eyebrow. "Miss Weasley, have you been color blind all this time? That might explain why your colors never matched in your previous attire."

"No—"

"Are those not black shoes behind you?" Lucius pointed to a pair of black heels that had the unfortunate luck to be five inches high. "Or are mine eyes deceiving me?"

"Of course, I'll just uh, wear these then," she said, adding a mumbled, "even though I may very well die."

She struggled to put on the pointed toe shoes without falling, wondering why she hadn't thought to at least look at what she had been packing. She squeaked when she began to teeter, managing to catch her balance on the worn trunk that she had dragged out the hall closet in order to search for her kitten heels. Blushing a furious red, she managed to right herself, both heels firmly on her feet, and avoid Lucius's gaze.

"I—I'm ready." She slowly walked over to the table and picked up her purse, managing to shoulder it and walk towards the door at the same time—a huge feat if you asked her. "The car is downstairs."

"I believe Mr. Flint has situated himself in his own car in the same amount of time you managed to put your shoes on," Lucius said, motioning for her to exit in front of him.

"Oh, he has his own car?" Ginny asked, attempting to seem nonchalant.

"Yes, Miss Weasley." Lucius smirked. "And I believe at some point or another your relations with Mr. Flint will become a topic of discussion between us. I need to know what sort of harassment I need to shield my company from."

"Pardon?" Ginny spluttered.

"I am not oblivious to his stares, Miss Weasley. And while I believe you can effectively handle yourself. I do not believe you can do that in a collected manner," Lucius said, nodding to the lift attendant. "Mr. Flint has been known to not take no without a fight. I would hate to see my company's reputation marred because he felt the need for a quick _shag_."

The lift attendant coughed.

Ginny glared at the man, who was trying to blend into the wall. "Have something to say?"

"Now, now, don't take that Weasley temper out on the lowly denizens," Lucius said amusedly. "I won't intervene unless I have to. You may keep the sordid details of your alcohol influenced liaison with Mr. Flint to yourself."

"How did you—"

"Though I am loathe to admit it, I believe that even _you_ would have better taste than to touch him whilst sober," Lucius said, his lip curling in distaste.

She didn't know if she should consider that a compliment or not.

Lucius smirked as the lift doors opened. "Who would have thought that the youngest Weasley would be such a _lush_?"

She scowled and followed behind him, exiting the hotel. A sleek black car waited for them, and she caught a glimpse of Marcus waving to her through the window of his own car. She felt her stomach tighten uncomfortably at the sight of him. Not for the first time, Ginny wished she would have never laid her eyes or lips, for that matter, on Marcus Flint—fixed teeth or not.

"Shall we, Miss Weasley? Or do I need to wait on your day dreams?"

Ginny grimaced. Dreaming and Marcus Flint did not belong in the same sentence.

* * *

The New York office of Malfoy International was not as large as its partner in London. The five storied brick building was nestled between a bookstore and a cafe, both owned by the company. Cars drove by on the bustling street, the sound of horns blaring and people shouting reminding Ginny of Muggle London. As they stepped out the car, Ginny receiving help from the chauffeur, she idly thought whether or not this was an advance in Wizarding society or a mockery of magic.

"Come, Miss Weasley. You can use your own time to sightsee," Lucius drawled.

Marcus stood on the sidewalk waiting for them, a slim leather folder tucked under one arm. "Would you like to me to head straight to the finances?"

"Yes. Remember, find the files yourself. I don't want anyone getting anything for you. Too much of a chance of tampering," Lucius said softly.

"Yes, sir," Marcus said.

The doors slid open as they approached, and Ginny couldn't help but feel amused as the activity in the lobby came to an abrupt halt. The receptionist at the desk dropped the parchment in her hand, her eyes wandering to a portrait that hung off to the side. The still image of the Malfoy family stared back at her, and she seemed to swallow an inaudible gulp.

When Lucius began moving towards the lifts, everyone began to bustle around again, hushed whispers and covert glances being directed towards the trio. Two things came to her mind just then. One, it would be in her best interest not to fall on her face. Two, Lucius Malfoy was enjoying every bit of attention, fear, and curiosity he instilled in the people around him.

"Sir?" The lift attendant said.

"Top floor," Ginny interjected as Lucius stared down the cowering man.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, jamming the button hard.

The lift ride was silent, except for the nervous coughs and movements from the lift attendant. The chaos that ensued when Lucius stepped onto the executive floor of the New York building was comical. It was clear that most had just arrived at work, which made sense, considering the early hour. Marcus immediately disappeared, clearly having been there before, and Ginny was relieved she wouldn't have to spend the rest of the day with him.

"Mr. Malfoy, we didn't know you would be coming."

Ginny saw a tall man walking towards them and recognized him as Michael Adams, the head of the New York office. He was in his mid-thirties and had started out in the marketing department of Malfoy International. In two years, he had managed to claw his way to the top, and though she couldn't find any details in the profile she read on him from a magazine, it was rumored that his predecessor stepped down because of some blackmail Adams held over him.

"Precisely."

"I—"

"Our discussion can wait until we get to your office, Michael. I have no desire to conduct my business in the open," he said, sneering at those around him.

"Right, of course, sir. This way," Michael said, leading them in the direction he had just come from. "If I had known you were coming, I would have been sure to have breakfast prepared for your arrival."

"I am on London time. It is past lunch," Lucius said.

"Time difference. How could I forget?" Michael buttoned his suit jacket as he held the door to his office open, his glance flickering to Ginny for the first time. "Michael Adams."

"Ginn—"

"Ginevra Weasley, my assistant," Lucius interrupted. "Now that the introductions are done, perhaps we can move on to more pressing matters."

Michael nodded, motioning for Ginny to step inside. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

His office was smaller than Lucius's, packed with an assortment of collectible items from Quodpot—he was an aficionado of the sport. A large oak desk sat towards the back of the room, two leather arm chairs facing it and one wing-backed chair behind it. Ginny almost giggled at the exertion of masculinity throughout the room, wondering if perhaps Mr. Adams was compensating for something.

"Miss Weasley will be sitting in on this meeting," Lucius said as he sat down.

Ginny took the seat next to his and readied herself for a rather boring meeting. The two men began to talk, a stilted politeness settling over the room, and her eyelids began to get heavy as the conversation turned to family. International Portkey travel, while quicker than Muggle methods, was draining, and she hadn't had a moments rest since she arrived.

"Let us cut to the point, Michael. Someone in this establishment is stealing money," Lucius said.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up at that statement.

"I am not—"

"Careful, Michael. If you are not apprised of this situation, then I am going to have to assume that you are incompetent," Lucius said, a smirk on his face. "If you are, your incompetence lessens but is there nonetheless."

Michael cleared his throat. "I've been working on the problem discreetly, sir. It's a little more complicated—"

"Complicated? Yes. I would agree with your statement," Lucius said, almost perversely. "But Michael, you didn't climb to the top without dealing with complicated. I fail to believe that you don't know where the money is being siphoned from."

"Sir, I haven't been able to figure—"

Michael seemed frustrated when Lucius cut him off once more. "And that is precisely why I had to cancel my plans for the next few days. I will be sorting through this ordeal on my own, and, in the meantime, I wouldn't feel too comfortable behind that desk."

Ginny watched the power play between the two men happen. Michael's hackles seemed to rise at Lucius's admission, and Ginny couldn't help but to feel that the man was about to say something stupid. He reminded Ginny a lot of Harry when the boy was younger. The way his shoulders seemed to straighten, and his palms scraped over the arm of his chair as he clenched his fist. She could tell something monumental was about to happen, even before his mouth opened.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think my position is cemented," Michael said firmly. "It wasn't just Mr. Chenworth that I had information on. I am rather astute, if I do say so myself, and very well informed of your _dealings_."

Lucius froze before a small, sardonic smile graced his face. "Well, well, Michael. You would have been sorted in Slytherin had you gone to Hogwarts. Very well, blackmail me."

"And what? Tell you the information I have on you before I have a chance to secure myself?" Michael leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed. But his movements were far too stiff. "No. I think I'll wait this one out."

The office door opened, and a woman walked in, black hair pulled into a loose bun. Her pleated skirt swished around her lower thighs, and her black jacket dipped to right under her bust, no shirt underneath. She looked both sophisticated and like a tart, her face with the barest hint of makeup. Underneath, her gaze, Ginny felt like a wayward fly.

"Sorry, Mic—Mr. Adams, I didn't realize you had company," she said.

"No worries, Delilah," Michael said. "You know Mr. Malfoy, and this is his assistant Ginevra Weasley."

Delilah's gaze swept over her attire, landing on her feet. "Nice . . . shoes."

"Thank you," Ginny said, her head raised.

"We were leaving," Lucius said. He tipped his head to Michael. "I will be in town for a few days, and Mr. Flint will be keeping me apprised of the situation. Don't let your arrogance sway you too much, Michael. You would be fool to think you're _safe_."

Ginny followed Lucius out the office, trying to process what had just happened. Apparently the rumors had been true, Michael had secured his office through blackmail, something that Lucius would have probably admired. But now he held blackmail on Lucius, which was surprising. The Malfoys struck her as careful people, ones who wouldn't allow blackmail to be held over them. This would mean they weren't as untouchable, as infallible as she thought them.

"Miss Weasley, do not trouble yourself with that conversation," Lucius said as they exited onto the pavement. He looked up and down the street before turning to the right. "Michael Adams wishes to play, and it's been a while since I've had some fun."

"Fun?" Ginny deadpanned.

"Yes, fun," Lucius said, grinning. "Now, I believe there is a store along here, ah, yes."

Ginny looked at the shop window in confusion. "Luggage?"

"This is only the first of many trips, Miss Weasley. Your trunk is in poor condition," Lucius said. "You'll need a new one."

Ginny wondered what parallel universe she had stepped into.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it!


	9. Quodpot Seductions

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

To all my 'Guest' reviewers that I can't respond to, thanks so much for your reviews!

* * *

Ginny sighed, wrapping the thick, fluffy dressing gown tightly around herself as she moved to answer the door. She had expected that the house elf would have brought the snack she had requested from the kitchens, but it seemed perhaps her food was delivered at the door. Swinging the door open, she was both surprised and mortified to find Lucius Malfoy, dressed in his finest tuxedo, standing at her door.

"Miss Weasley, a word," he said, sweeping past her and into the room.

"Please, come in," she mock whispered, pulling her gown tighter around her. She closed the door, locking the deadbolt for good measure, and turned to face her boss, who had made himself comfortable on the sofa. "Sir?"

"How long have you been working for me, Miss Weasley?"

"Seems like forever," she muttered. "Not very long."

"What do you know about Germany and Malfoy International?" asked Lucius, placing his arm on the back of the chair.

"The Germany branch isn't doing well. There have been a lot of fraud investigations into Malfoy International, a lot of negative press, which I imagine isn't helping business along," Ginny said.

"No, it's not," Lucius agreed. "Do you know why?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm assuming you do . . . sir."

"Nott Industries," Lucius said with a rueful smile. "Malfoy International has been run by the books for quite some years now. But Nott Industries seems to have a certain hold over some higher officials."

"The Minister?" Ginny questioned.

"No, not him," Lucius said, "which is why I have been so intent on meeting him. I don't believe he is quite aware of the corruption within his government. If he is, I would like to know."

Ginny waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, she sat in the armchair to his right. She wondered if perhaps she should excuse herself to put some clothes on. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable experience in the world to be so close to naked in front of her boss—especially considering his name was Lucius Malfoy. She patted her dressing gown down, smoothing her palms over the gold cotton.

"What do you know about Axel Gerber?"

"He is the youngest Minister to sit on the International Confederation of Wizards as well as the youngest Minister of Germany. He's passed many bills that prevent certain practices—"

"Dark Arts. I won't be offended," he assured her.

"Yes," Ginny said. "He speaks many languages fluently and all without the hint of a German accent—"

"And he is single," Lucius interrupted.

Ginny closed her mouth with a snap. "Yes."

"Attractive too," Lucius said. "And he likes pretty baubles."

"Yes," Ginny said.

"You've not been with me long, Miss Weasley. But you are smart," he said, looking away from her. "You have a great deal more commonsense than I thought. You are certainly more adept at this than previous assistants."

"Thank you," Ginny said.

"You are not conventionally pretty, though you've proved valuable. Your manners are abysmal, and your temper is a great inconvenience," he added as if she hadn't spoken. "Furthermore, you cannot lie and are not particularly cunning. Your social skills are lacking immensely."

Ginny realized that Lucius would never be able to pay her a compliment.

Lucius stared at her for a moment before calling for the house elf. "A tea service, now."

"Sir, I am going to assume that there was something I was supposed to glean from this conversation?" she asked bluntly.

"Perhaps you weren't as smart as I thought." He cocked his head to the side. "Go and get dressed, Miss Weasley. Fashionably late was undoubtedly a phrase coined by a woman."

Ginny's brow furrowed as she stood up and moved into the bedroom. She closed the doors and twisted the lock, the conversation running through her head like a broken record. He was trying to tell her something, and she couldn't quite fit the pieces together. It had to do with the German Minister, of that she was sure.

Sighing, she unhooked the dress from the hanger, slipping it on her body. It was a plain navy dress with a high collar, though the back dipped just under her shoulder blades. There was a small, discreet slit on the right side of the dress, and jewels trimmed the hem of the dress. She waved her wand at her hair, and it was instantly pinned back in a chignon—something that had become customary recently. It was the only spell she knew. She finished her look with minimal makeup. All in all, she managed to still feel like Ginny Weasley: conservative, no large split threatening to reveal things she would rather not, and the heel on her sandals were low.

She took a deep breath, still puzzled by Lucius's earlier speech, and entered the sitting room. There was no subtle glance over, only a blatant inspection of her attire. From the curl of his lip, she realized that he did not approve, and he seemed to shake his head slightly. She knew that it was conservative, though the fabric did cling to her skin, but she didn't quite expect such obvious disapproval.

"I see you're dressed, and perhaps not as smart as I thought." He took an envelope out of one of his interior jacket pockets, calling out for an elf. "This needs to reach its destination immediately."

Ginny was used to insults from her boss. He did it often and without preamble. But she wasn't ready for the disappointed tone. It was almost fatherly disapproval. It didn't cut into her like her own father's did, but she certainly felt a little ashamed that she hadn't deciphered whatever meaning he had meant her to figure out. Certainly, her frustration with the situation only increased, and she felt much like she had on her first day of working for him: clueless.

As they Portkeyed to their destination, the hotel the fundraiser would be hosted at too far to drive, she wondered what it was that she was missing from the conversation. Minister Gerber was the topic. She thought of all that Lucius had said and that she had said. Gerber was young and ambitious, perhaps unaware of shady business deals between his workers and Nott Industries. Lucius needed to know whether or not he was truly unawares or if he was a part of it.

Her thoughts stopped momentarily as they landed at the venues Portkey point. They stepped down onto a red carpet, Ginny being helped down from the dais by one of the attendants. She gingerly stepped onto a plush red carpet and kept a sedated pace behind Lucius as she attempted to take in the scene. Reporters stood behind a red rope, calling out to the various people adorning the carpet. She recognized some as the team members, but most of them were unfamiliar to her. It was surprising when some of them called out for Mr. Malfoy, and even more so when he actually stepped towards them.

"Sir, what brings you to New York?"

"Business. I wish I could be here more for vacationing purposes. It is a lively atmosphere," he drawled, smiling at the reporter, who blushed in response.

"Are the rumors true that there is discord in Malfoy Industries?"

"I assure you that business runs as usual. I am only here for my usual, routine analysis of the office," Lucius said. He waved to the woman and said, "But I must go join the festivities and celebrate our team."

"One last question, Mr. Malfoy," the reporter shouted.

"Yes?"

"Who are you wearing?"

Ginny snorted, the only sound she had made since the impromptu interview began. It wasn't surprising that he chanced her a brief glance. What was surprising, however, was that he answered. She had no idea who Giorgio Armani was, nor why the lady dithered and complimented him on his taste. But she moved on, following him down the carpet, attempting to blend in and not drag attention to herself. Lucius clearly did not feel the same way as he was currently waving and flashing smiles at various photographers.

They both paused when Michael Adams approached them, a beguiling grin on his face. "Sir, good of you to come."

"I wouldn't miss a chance to support our team," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Ginevra," he greeted.

"I would prefer Ms. Weasley, thank you," Ginny replied frostily.

He seemed taken aback but schooled his features. "_Miss _Weasley, good to see you."

"Likewise, Mr. Adams," she replied, refusing to rise to his bait.

As he walked away to talk to a throng of reporters, Lucius raised an eyebrow. "A little cold, Miss Weasley?"

"Hmph," Ginny said, turning away. The man simply rubbed her the wrong way. "I think we should go inside and see the team."

Lucius simply shook his head and led the way into the red-lit ballroom. They had taken the team colors, red and white, and made the entire ballroom a shrine to it. The whole room had a modern atmosphere to it, lively music reverberating throughout the room, and the walls being bathed in alternating red and white lights. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling also had red and white baubles hanging from it.

She paused as she saw the _baubles_. Hadn't Lucius said that Axel Gerber liked pretty baubles? She stared at the man standing close to her, wondering if that was what he had meant. Did he mean for her to look like some sexed up arm candy that could distract men into telling her their secrets? She knew that was probably what he meant. After all, he had been thrilled at her attire for the last function she attended—which had only been two nights ago.

"Little Ginny Weasley!"

Ginny cringed at the moniker but smiled at Britain's Minister anyway, happy for a distraction from her thoughts. "Hello, Minister Shacklebolt."

"None of that now," the large man admonished. He gave her a gentle hug, unbefitting of his size but familiar to the youngest Weasley. He had been a comforting presence to her family at many trials in their lives, and they had been more than happy to campaign for him to take place as Minister. "I missed you at the last reunion dinner."

The reunion dinners were now a common thing amongst all the former Order of Phoenix members. Every two weeks, they gathered at the old headquarters and had dinner, catching up on the lives, unthreatened lives, of their old friends. And while Ginny, nor any of the younger Weasleys, had officially been a part of the Order, they were still recognized as integral parts of that unit. They had, after all, been as much a part of the battle as everyone else. Fred was believed dead at one point—but then again, Snape had been believed dead as well. There were a few minutes of heart wrenching despair that rippled through the Weasley family before Fred was 'resurrected' as he had dubbed it.

"Unfortunately I had to work," Ginny said, stepping back from him. Remembering where she was, she gestured to Lucius. "I believe you know my boss, Lucius Malfoy."

"You have been busy. This must have been a promotion," Kingsley said, a polite smile on his face. "Lucius, it has been awhile since I've gotten any complaints on you."

"I can only imagine that's a good thing," Lucius said tensely.

"Of course," Kingsley agreed. "Last check of the market showed that your business was doing quite splendidly."

"With employees like Miss Weasley, how could it not?" Lucius didn't sound complimentary, but he also didn't sound sarcastic either.

"Yes, she is a dedicated individual," Kingsley agreed.

By the look on his face, Ginny knew he was thinking about the war, about her antics in her sixth year. It seemed so odd that they would be standing with the enemy, the man who had tried on many occasions to kill them. The surrealism of it all didn't fail to amaze her, nor did the fact that there was no level of animosity. Kingsley wasn't his usual jolly self, but he was polite, controlled. How times had changed that they could now stand next to the man that Kingsley had called a coward when Ginny had, one sleepless night at headquarters, revealed the events of her first year.

To break the morose mood, Ginny turned to Kingsley. "So what brings you here?"

"I'm in town for some Ministry affairs and was invited as a guest of—"

"Minister Shacklebolt, Minster Gerber is approaching," a mousy man said from next to Kingsley—his assistant Ginny assumed. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Axel, sorry I couldn't meet you at the Ministry earlier. I had a late Portkey," Kingsley said.

As the two conversed, Lucius eyed Ginny speculatively. "You know, Miss Weasley, I'm beginning to think that I over estimated your skills of deduction."

Frustrated, Ginny couldn't help the words that spilled from her mouth. "I am sorry that I seem to be so clueless to your half sentences that I'm supposed to form into a whole command."

His lips quirked a little. "Temper, Miss Weasley. If you would only think hard on what I said, you would understand not what I'm commanding you to do, but what I hope you would do. And do well. What difference is a drunken hallway experience to a calculated plan with favorable and possibly pleasurable results?"

Ginny took a good look at Axel Gerber, and suddenly, Lucius's words fell into her head. He was single. He was attractive—and Lucius certainly had good taste in men. Axel Gerber was tall with broad shoulders and a full head of brown hair, which seemed to be perfectly coiffed to look rather careless. Striking blue eyes swept past her as he observed the Minister's companions, and she saw the slightest bit of scruff adorning his chin. And then it made sense.

She froze and stared at Lucius, disbelievingly. He was concentrated on the German Minister and did not notice that she had finally made sense of his cryptic message. He wanted her to—she felt dizzy. It all seemed so wrong, yet he expected that she would get that message. He expected that she would know and find no fault in his meaning. Had he really meant for her to seduce the head of a country? To have sex with someone for information?

"Axel, this is Ginevra Weasley. She was a part of the Order," Kingsley said. "Ginny, Axel Gerber—"

"The German Minister of Magic," Ginny breathed, an uncomfortable blush creeping up her cheeks as her thoughts swam of seduction. "Good to meet you, sir."

"I am not much older than you, Ms. Weasley. Call me Axel," he said, extending his hand.

She shook it. "Ginn—Ginevra."

Kingsley looked between the pair. "And this is Lucius Malfoy."

"Of Malfoy International?"

"Yes, sir," Lucius said, seeming to gauge the man's response.

"Pleasure to meet you. Your name is quite common in my office," Axel said.

"Is that so? I was not made aware of this fact," Lucius said curiously. "Nothing bad I hope?"

He frowned. "Well, I would hate to bear bad news, but I hear it isn't going well. I've heard you're having trouble securing contracts."

"I will need to investigate this issue," Lucius said. "But tonight is about my team. So all talk of business will simply have to cease."

Ginny recognized a well played maneuver. Instantly, the German Minister entered a light conversation with Kingsley about the sport, and it became obvious that Kingsley was his guest. They were seated at the same table—as were, _coincidentally_, Ginny and Lucius. Kingsley seemed happy to have her at his table, interjecting that Ginny used to play Quidditch at school.

"I was a Chaser," Ginny said when asked by the Minister. "I dreamt of being a Quidditch star."

"And now you're an assistant," the Minister said with a small smile. "Don't worry. I dreamt of being a musician. But these hands are more suited to write laws than play music."

"I'm sure you're a talented musician," Ginny said, cringing at the obvious flirtation.

"As you must be a gifted Quidditch player," he replied.

Ginny covered her smile with a muted thank you. Knowing what Lucius had been implying earlier made her feel both uncomfortable and awkward. She didn't want to continue a conversation with the exceedingly handsome man, despite, it seemed, Kingsley's best efforts. The man kept interrupting the silence with things he thought Minister Gerber would find interesting about her. All the while, Lucius sat next to her with a calculating gaze.

She hurriedly excused herself from the table. And when all the men moved to stand, she held out her hands to stop them. "No, please, sit. I'll only be a moment. Thank you though for that whole—uhm gentleman thing. Lovely."

"Was it something I said?" she heard the German Minister ask the other two men.

She didn't wait to hear any response, leaving the ballroom. She was immediately accosted by reporters as she made her way outside, and she managed to slip past the shutters of the camera—not unnoticed. The hotel they were hosting the event at had a beautiful garden, and she wandered around, getting herself well and truly lost.

Finally, after a few minutes of aimless wandering, she sank down onto the edge of a fountain, the splash of the water soothing to her ears. She didn't mind that she could feel the mist dampening her dress. She only needed to breathe and think, in peace. She couldn't think about her sudden discovery in the ballroom, couldn't process her rapidly growing unease.

Lucius Malfoy wanted her to seduce someone for information. Was this the seedy side of the business world? Was this what was expected of her as a female? Her unease spread throughout her body, her stomach roiling uncomfortably. She had done many things in her short lifetime, including fought in a war at the tender age of sixteen. She had been possessed by a mad man when she was eleven. She had even had a relationship with the savior of the Wizarding World, and while that wasn't nearly as devastating as a war and possession, it had been trying.

But to think that she was supposed to use feminine wiles—ones she didn't think she even possessed—to get information about a company. "It's not the bloody country for Merlin's sake."

"Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny's head flew up as she saw the German Minster approaching her. "Sir—I mean Axel, what are you doing out here?"

"It is a long time to be in the bathroom, even for a lady," he said. "Should I retrieve Mr. Malfoy or Minister Shacklebolt?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Really, unharmed," Ginny said with a false smile. "I only needed a bit of fresh air and perhaps something that wasn't red to look at."

"Understandably," he said. He seemed to hesitate before opening his mouth once more. "I was well informed of the war, Ms. Weasley—"

"Ginn—I mean, Ginevra," she said.

Because Ginny was too close to home, too close to what her friends called her. This was a man that her boss wanted her to sleep with, and she didn't intend on knowing him on any personal level. None.

"Ginevra, then. Lucius Malfoy, you fought against him," Axel said.

"Yes, I did. With everything I had," she replied, turning away. "It's a funny thing, forgiveness. Sometimes you don't even know it's being given. It just happens."

"Do you have problems with him?" Axel asked.

"No," Ginny said. "He's my boss. Sometimes he behaves like a tyrant, but it's really all for business. Without his demeanor, the business wouldn't be nearly as successful as it is today."

"I think you're very understanding, Ms. Weasley," he said.

"No, we simply see things differently." Ginny shook her head, laughing a little to herself. "He wants an outcome, and he uses his resources to get them."

"A little callous," Axel commented.

"I don't think so, not really. He just acknowledges things about life that other people won't," Ginny said. She shrugged. "It's why he is where he is today and not locked up in Azkaban like most people wanted him to be. He knows how things are, and he knows where he needs to fall in life to get the right outcome."

"Even breaking laws?"

Ginny smiled ruefully. "We've all broken a law or two. It was war."

Axel nodded. "I remember reading of it when I was in school, all the indecision that surrounded our Ministry's decision. I think it was perhaps one of the defining moments in deciding what to do with my future. The headlines were—they were horrific, and my country did nothing."

"While I think help would have been nice, your leaders were probably in the right. There was so much senseless killing. And like it or not, Voldemort," she paused, "would have found followers in your country as well."

He seemed to ponder this before nodding. "You are correct, I think."

"After the war, everyone in my family kept discussing this popular notion of seeing things in black and white instead of seeing the shades of gray in between," Ginny said idly, not caring who she was talking to. "Life can't be black and white. It would be too easy if I could automatically assume someone was wrong and evil from one action—or a few in some cases. But things aren't neat, and people can't be easily categorized."

"Are you trying to tell me something, Ginevra?"

She shook her head, tendrils of red hair falling from the chignon. "No, I'm just talking."

"In that case, would you care to continue this conversation elsewhere?" he asked. "I would love to hear more about your opinions and Quidditch. I do love that sport."

Ginny bit her lip, contemplating. On one hand, she could say no and go back in to face Lucius's scathing comments about her inability to get the hint. On the other, she could go with Axel and have a meaningless conversation with him. If she gleaned anything about the business, then that would only be a bonus. Being in the same room as an attractive male didn't mean sex. And Lucius wanted her to seduce information from him, didn't he? Wouldn't this be seen as a step in the right direction?

"Was my offer presumptuous?"

"I—no, uhm, not at all," she said, shaking her head quickly as if to remove the thoughts from her head by force. "Yes, I would like that."

"I believe we're staying at the same hotel," he said. "I offered Minister Shacklebolt and Mr. Malfoy to escort you back if I found you unwell."

"That takes care of that then," she muttered to herself.

She stood and dusted off her dress, allowing him to escort her further into the maze. There was something to be said about being escorted home by the German Minister. For one, there were three guards standing around them. Two, she didn't have to worry about the swarm of reporters since they were privately Portkeyed back to the hotel.

* * *

She didn't know how it happened. They had been sitting in his lavish hotel room, one that rivaled Lucius's, and she had been admiring the decor, all rich blue hues and cream accents. She had taken a spot on a chaise lounge, oblivious to the fact that he had taken a spot next to her when he handed her a flute of champagne. And when his hand touched her wrist, she had shivered at the contact. When his hand reached up and touched the knot of hair at the nape of her neck, the magic seeming to sizzle under his touch as the red locks fell around her shoulder.

"You have beautiful hair," he murmured.

Ginny didn't listen to much else after that, her long time away from the male sex catching up with her. His touch traveled through the red strands and to her shoulder, running up behind her ear to finger the diamond hoops. He gently removed them, and she hesitated for a moment—but only a moment. His finger on her cheek, urging her to turn towards him, and his lips on her neck were enough for her to decide. It didn't make sense. It was everything that she hadn't meant to do when coming here. But it was everything that she, being a woman in a time of stress, felt like doing.

He pressed his lips to her, the lingering taste of champagne on his lips. There was no spark, no rush of feelings. He was a man. She was a woman. And she didn't care that his hand was sliding up her back, grasping the zipper and tugging it. She only reached up and clasped her hand around his neck, pulling him towards her. Her champagne glass, nearly empty, was still in her other hand, and she pulled away, not wanting to spill all over the carpet. She reached out to the small side table next to her, placing the glass on the desk.

Even in her current state, Axel's hand running up and down the naked skin of her back, she couldn't help but to notice Malfoy International, an address, and German words she didn't understand. But Axel Gerber's signature was prominent at the bottom, and considering Lucius's worry, she could decipher what it was about. She bit her lip, her thoughts swirling, even as she arched into his touch.

"You're like a kitten."

Draco Malfoy. She was strongly reminded of him calling her a feline, not to mention the way she had felt drunkenly pressed against him as he carried her to bed. The thought shook her to the core—and not in the good way.

"I'm sorry," Ginny stuttered, jumping as if shocked. 'I just remembered I—uh have a previous engagement. It's getting late."

"Ginevra—"

"I'm sorry, Axel," she said, struggling to zip her dress back up. "I'm not this kind of girl, who sleeps with politicians and—"

He stood and helped her zip up the back of her dress. "Dinner tomorrow would be out of the question?"

"I don't know if I'll even be here," she whispered.

As she walked to the door, she heard him say, "If you ever visit Germany, Ginevra, don't hesitate to schedule a dinner with me—lunch if you prefer."

She twisted the doorknob and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Her hair tickled her nose as she leaned against the door, breathing in deeply. Ginny had just committed the very act that Lucius wanted her to. She had found out the information and not by talking. There hadn't been much talking after she had left the fundraiser, none at all really.

Ginny blushed as she realized that there were two guards standing at the door, neither one looking at her. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and dashed down the hall, her shoes dangling from one hand. It was unthinkable that there would be anyone housed on the same floor as the German Minister. She was sure he would require privacy. So when she saw a man stepping off the lifts, she assumed he was part of the German Minister's crew. But dressed as he was, hands tucked into a navy blue jacket, it didn't seem likely.

And then she saw his hair. There were only two men she knew with that shade of blond. When he looked up at her, she froze on the spot, her eyes locking with steel gray eyes. His lips quirked, and she saw his glance fall on the two guards that stood behind her. She couldn't help but to flush red, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, well, it looks like Father didn't need to summon me after all." Draco approached her, eyes trailing across her rumpled hair to the shoes in her hand. "He was right though. The German Minister wouldn't tell him anything, only a younger person could persuade him."

"It's not what you're thinking," she said hurriedly. "I didn't—"

"There's a spell to cover that up, Weasley. You might want to try it," he said, reaching out to touch her neck.

She flinched. "I didn't—"

"No need to defend your choices to me, Weasley," he said, smirking. "You're not the first woman to use sex to get their way, and you certainly won't be the last. I never thought you had it in you."

"That is not what I did," she said forcefully. Somehow, having Draco Malfoy believe she slept with him bothered her. "I was going to but I couldn't. I'm not that person."

"Chin up, Weasley, at least your body is appealing to some," he drawled, stepping past her and to a door on her right.

She walked away feeling dirty, despite not having done anything. She had only stumbled across the information, not seduced him for it. Ginny repeated this over and over in her head, even as she applied a charm to her neck and scrubbed her body pink in the shower. As she did, she turned her brain off. She didn't want to think of why she had jumped to Draco Malfoy while kissing another man. She definitely didn't want to think about why she felt anything about him believing she had sex with Axel. She didn't want to think.


	10. Misunderstandings

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and thanks for being patient for updates.

* * *

The next morning, Ginny woke with deep, dark rings underneath her eyes. Her sleep, when it had finally come in the early hours of the morning, had been troubled with thoughts of her new life, of how her parents would be disappointed in her, and of how easy it had been for her to forget herself because of a man's touch. The last thought had been fleeting but survived long enough to make her feel a pang of loneliness, one that had made her feel desolate enough to turn to the sidebar in the sitting room. Though she had never been much for the taste of stronger alcohols, preferring sweeter and lighter drinks, the brown liquids had done her well with the right amount of ice to dull the burn.

It wasn't that she was craving a relationship. It was simply that she didn't have very many friends. Growing up in a large family had ensured that she had lots of brothers around to support her—although time and time again she had questioned where they had been in her first year. But apart from them, she had very few people to socialize with. She spoke to Hermione whenever the older girl could spare some time from her busy life. And her correspondences with Luna were always amusing, but Luna would never sit around and gossip with her about inane things, unless it concerned some as of yet discovered creature. All in all, her choices in friends were pretty limited. She had spent so much time concentrating on her career, and now she wondered what that said about her considering the turn her career had taken.

Lucius's hinting at seduction, his hinting at exactly what she had almost done the night before, still made her queasy. Of course, it could be that she was slightly hung over. But in any case, she was still not entirely pleased with how things had happened. She wondered, and had been wondering since she stepped foot into her room, what he thought of her hasty disappearance. Did he think she had slept with Axel?

The thought irked her. He had fired his assistant for sleeping with a man. Even if it was his son, it was a bit hypocritical of Lucius to push her to do the same. Perhaps Romilda was trying to seduce Draco for some gain, her social standing most likely, but a gain for her nonetheless. Did that make her actions any different from Ginny's the night before?

She groaned, burying her head in the pillow, before she rolled out of bed, taking the sheet she had been wrapped up in with her. She slowly made her way across the bedroom and opened the doors that led to her private balcony. The sun was just rising, and she sank down on the cream colored circular chaise, large enough to fit three people. Snuggled down in large pillows, sheets cocooning her body, Ginny tried to prepare herself for the day ahead. Draco was here, after all, and he had found her in a compromising position.

"Hilly," she called tentatively.

The elf popped onto the balcony, her eyes darting to the small table next to the chaise. She immediately vanished the turned over bottle and glass Ginny had been drinking from the night before. "Yes, Miss?"

Ginny blushed slightly, feeling awkward. "Er, would it be possible for me to get a pack of smokes?"

The elf nodded. "Hilly will bring them to Miss."

"Thank you," Ginny said, even though the elf had already popped away.

Smoking was not something she did often. But she found the Wizarding version to Muggle cigarettes soothing. It could be the fact that they were laced with a calming agent, but, on the bright side, they weren't nearly as bad for her health as the Muggle version. She had picked up the habit after a rather rare night of binge drinking with her brothers. They didn't want their baby sister smoking, but after she wrestled George to the ground and stole his pack, they conceded defeat. Ever since, she would find herself, on occasion, craving the way her body responded to the slim, potion laced cigarettes.

Hilly returned with a selection of smokes. She recognized the cheaper brand that Fred and George smoked as well as the more expensive brand that she had seen Magnolia smoke from time to time. She had never tried them and decided that now would be a good time to do so. Plucking them from the basket Hilly held out, she removed one, surprised to see Hilly holding a small flame at the tip of her fingertips. Lighting the cigarette, Ginny took a small puff and sunk back into the pillows to watch the sunset.

Over two hours later, Ginny made her way down to breakfast freshly showered and dressed. She had taken a little more care in her attire today, choosing one of the suits that had been well tailored to her body. The navy blue suit was fitted, the trousers flaring slightly and the jacket conforming to her body. Satin lapels made it seem a little less plain, and she had paired it with a silky gray blouse underneath. She touched a hand to her habitual chignon, thinking she was much better equipped to face the Delilahs of the world.

She stopped short in the dining room as she saw two blond heads on the outdoor patio. She had never expected Lucius to actually dine in the restaurant, thinking he was more the type to have a private breakfast in his rooms. And as she tried to make an escape before either of the Malfoys saw her, gray eyes focused on her, and she had no choice but to walk the path towards their table, nodding when the waitress asked if she would like a menu.

The two men rose as she joined them, and she sat in a chair, still unused to the gentlemanly gesture. "Good morning."

"Get enough sleep last night, Weasley? Or did you sneak out to have a little—"

"How are you feeling, Miss Weasley? You did rush out of the fundraiser rather unexpectedly," Lucius said, cutting his son off without so much of a glance in his direction. "I assumed when Gerber did not return that he had escorted you to your room."

Draco snorted into his teacup, mumbling something that suspiciously sounded like, "He did a little more than escort."

Glaring at the younger blond, Ginny turned to her boss, nodding. "I do feel better. Thank you."

"I assumed the international travel had an adverse effect on you. It can be trying until you get used to it," Lucius said, almost sounding caring. "I am sure you couldn't afford it in the past."

And just like that, the concern disappeared.

"I'm sure that must have been it," Draco said, lazily leaning back in the upholstered chair. "It had nothing to do with her desire to spend some one on one time with a high, political figure."

Lucius's gaze snapped to hers, one eyebrow lifted. "Pardon?"

"I—it's not what he's making it sound like, sir," she said, not being able to help what was sure to be a tomato red blush from forming. She felt like snapping Draco's neck in that moment. "I didn't do what you wanted me to do."

"And what pray tell did you _think_ I wanted you to do?" asked Lucius.

She saw genuine curiosity on his face and was suddenly mortified. "I thought, that is, I garnered you wanted me to—er, well, you know."

Draco began to chuckle. "Did you somehow become a prude in the last few hours, Weasley?"

"Shut it," Ginny snapped, unable to hold back her temper. She took a deep breath, staring at the canopy hanging from the slats of the cabana. "I would rather not discuss this here, sir."

"I cannot seem to _garner_ a care for what you would _rather_, Miss Weasley." Lucius had an expression on his face, akin to the ones she had seen on her first day on the job. "I would like to know what it is you did on my supposed bidding."

"You er, implied, that you wanted me to seduce the Minister," Ginny said, so softly that neither man could hear her.

"For Merlin's sake, speak up, Weasley," Draco said, clearly receiving enjoyment from her embarrassment. "It's not all that hard to say."

"I thought you wanted me to get information from the Minister," Ginny tried.

"I did," Lucius said with a nod. "I am, however, curious as to what methods you think I expected you to apply."

"I, well, I just, didn't you want me to—"

"The fun is gone now," Draco drawled. He sipped his tea and cleared his throat. "Your dutiful assistant, under what she presumed to be your orders, had sex with Axel Gerber last night."

Simultaneously, three things happened. Ginny cried out a denial, Lucius emitted a strange sound as his eyebrows slammed together, and the waitress, who had been bringing over a cup of tea for Ginny, had the fine china slapped out of her hand when Ginny raised her hands in protest. Draco sat back and watched the chaos with undisguised pleasure.

"I'm so sorry," Ginny said, rushing to help the waitress.

"It's okay, Ma'am. I'll just get you another cup," she said, scurrying off while darting furtive glances behind Ginny.

Ginny turned and stared at Lucius, surprised and very confused as to why he seemed so shocked and, oddly enough, upset. Hadn't this been what he wanted her to do?

She sank down in her chair, blurting out, "I didn't sleep with him."

"That is true," Draco noted seriously. "She left after. I did expect you to be a post-coitus snuggle type of girl."

Ginny suppressed a growl. "I didn't shag him."

Lucius was quiet, and Ginny nervously fidgeted in her seat, thanking the waitress who hesitantly reappeared at her side with a cup of tea. Glad for the distraction, Ginny set about preparing her tea, mindful of the fact that two sets of gray eyes were trained on her. It was perhaps this awareness that made her unaware of the fact that someone was approaching her right side. And just as she was about to open her mouth and try and explain what happened to her boss, a strangled noise escaped her mouth.

"Ginevra, good to see you," Axel said. He plopped a pouch on the side of the table. "These belong to you."

Ginny cringed as she saw an earring peek out of the pouch. "Thank you, Minister Gerber."

He moved his hand away from the table when she called his formal name. "Yes, well, have a good day, Ginevra. You too, gentlemen."

It spoke volumes that Lucius, despite wanting to get in the Minister's good graces, said nothing. He was so intent on staring at Ginny, his eyes dropping to the pouch on the table, an indiscernible expression on his face. Whereas before, she had caught brief glimpses of shock and something akin to disappointment, he was now completely masked. The same could not be said for his son, who had a grin on his face, the likes of which Ginny had never seen before. If it wasn't at her expense, she would have thought it attractive.

She wanted to stab herself for even thinking it.

"We will discuss this in private," Lucius finally said. "Miss Weasley, I suggest you eat something. It seems you had a trying night."

Ginny shoved the pouch into her purse, her face flushed with heat as she listed off her breakfast order. The next half hour was a ridiculously quiet affair. Every clack of the fork against the plate seemed to ring in her ears, and every bite of her toast seemed loud to her ears. All the while, she couldn't help but to think of what she had misconstrued. Had she gotten all his hints wrong? Her stomach churned at the thought, and she pushed away the heavy meal, resorting to a few pieces of fruit.

* * *

Despite her situation, Ginny couldn't help to ogle at the sheer size of Lucius's suites. Whereas hers was a little smaller than her flat, Lucius's suite could comfortably fit three of her flats in it. The room didn't look that big on the outside, and Ginny had to imagine that there was a lot of magic aiding the size. And as the pictures had showed, it was decked out for royalty with opulent golds and bronzes.

She sat down in the settee to the right of Lucius, happy to note that Draco had wandered off through one of the many doors. They sat in silence, and Ginny, not wanting to disrupt Lucius's pensive mood, made her eyes wander, her fingertips rubbing against the soft fibers of the chair. It seemed Lucius had been using his sitting area as an office, if the parchments and quills scattered across the lone table were anything to go by. She found that odd, considering there was an office in the massive space.

Finally, after minutes of silence, Ginny squirmed in her chair. "Sir, I want you to know that I didn't sleep with him."

"Was my son lying then?" Lucius stared at her with cold eyes.

"Yes, about some of it anyway," Ginny muttered. She cleared her throat. "I went to his room, and well, I did see something pertaining to the company."

That seemed to distract him from what it was that happened in the room.

"Do tell?"

"I'm not really sure what it was," she said, feeling a little frustrated that she wasn't multilingual like the Malfoys. "It was written in German, but I picked out Malfoy International. I checked this morning and the address matches where the offices are."

Lucius leaned back, and Ginny noticed his cane was missing today. "Hmm, I wonder."

"His signature was at the bottom. I don't know if it was a letter or not," Ginny said.

Lucius glanced at her and nodded as if answering some private question. "Miss Weasley, are you familiar with Pensieves?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "I've never used one, but, yes, I know of them."

"I would like to view that memory, Miss Weasley. It is of importance," Lucius said. "If indeed Axel is signing off on these raids, then it means he is well aware of what is happening. If that is the case, well, it is damning information."

Ginny bit on her lip, contemplating the proposal. The idea of Lucius viewing that moment, an intimate moment in her mind, was terrifying. She didn't need Lucius to see as Axel unzipped her dress, or, a more awkward situation, seeing her reactions to Axel's touch. She had never been an exhibitionist, and she wouldn't try out that particular fetish with her boss.

"Miss Weasley, I will not judge you on your choices," Lucius said. "I simply want to see the document. That is all."

Easier said than done. But she knew, by the look on Lucius's face, that it was a demand wrapped in a nice bow that looked like a request. She had no skill for Occlumency, and she had felt Snape riffle through her mind before. It had not been a pleasant experience—especially since she had been fighting against him. She didn't know if Lucius had any talent in Legilimency, but she wouldn't put it past him. He was a powerful man, and she knew he had certain talents that Voldemort kept him around for.

"I'm not sure how to do this, sir," she said quietly.

"I will do all the work, Miss Weasley. You simply have to think of the moment," Lucius said, calling for a house elf. "I will need access to a Pensieve."

"I will agree to the viewing of the memory, but—"

"Yes, Miss Weasley, you will accompany me on this uncomfortable journey. I imagine you would feel less violated that way," Lucius said.

She wondered if he was reading her mind, suddenly averting her gaze.

"No, Miss Weasley, I am not reading your mind," Lucius said.

"She clearly doesn't know she reads like a book." Draco entered the room, dressed in a pair of khakis with a light blue sweater. An apple dangled from his hand, and he bit into it, giving her a wink. "One of those easy readers for kids."

"I don't think I'm the one the word _easy_ should be used in conjecture with," Ginny said, blushing when Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Don't assume, Weasley, you'll always be incorrect. I'm the difficult one." He bit into the apple, swallowing before adding, "It's the women who throw themselves at me."

"Poor things. They must have tripped and fallen over your ego as you spoke to them," Ginny shot back.

"Children," Lucius drawled, though he seemed amused. "I suppose the world should be thankful you two were not in the same year at Hogwarts. You might have sped the war along by simply blowing up the school with your pettiness."

"A little dramatic, Father," Draco said. He tossed the apple carelessly into the wastebasket. "Well, as much as I would love to stick around for the amusement of seeing Weasley in action, I'd like to keep breakfast down. So I'm going to do a bit of exploring, visit a few friends, perhaps take a page from Weasley's easy reader and have a sh—"

"Out," Lucius snapped. As Draco walked away, Lucius called, "And don't get any witches pregnant. We don't need an international scandal on our hands."

Ginny grinned, not being able to help herself, even as Lucius turned his eyes on her. "Sorry."

"Yes, I see that," Lucius said, sarcasm evident.

A second later, a house elf popped into the room with a large stone basin weighing him down. He let the object levitate onto the desk and bowed his head before popping out of the room. Ginny barely saw him leave, too concentrated on the ominous gray stone that would soon hold her future embarrassment. She had never had to do anything like this for Magnolia, and she had certainly never had to anything like it in the war. The spying on the German Minister did seem a little like her break-ins to the former Headmaster's office however.

"Come, Miss Weasley. The process will not be painful, but I've heard the extraction can be uncomfortable when being done by someone else," Lucius said, staring at the wall behind her.

She wondered where he had heard such a thing but refused to think on it. Ginny had heard the things done to captives of Voldemort, and it wouldn't do her any good to dwell on it when one of the captors was now her boss. The war had become history, and even though it was still painful to think of the friends she lost, it would only cause her more turmoil to repeatedly bring it to the surface. She had enough confusion in her life to start questioning her morals of working for a former Death Eater.

Walking to the table, she tried to think back on only her moment with Axel as Lucius instructed her to do just that. Her tenuous grip on her concentration faltered for a moment when she saw Lucius point his wand at her, and it took everything to not draw her own—or run. Instead, she tried to grasp the memory, trying to concentrate as Lucius closed his eyes and murmured a few words, his wand hovering in front of her temple. Soon, a silvery substance materialized, and she watched with avid interest as Lucius maneuvered it into the bowl.

It shimmered and swirled, the silver color almost crystal and mirror-like. But when she stared at it, there was no reflection. She wanted to reach out to touch it, feel it slide within her fingers, but she curbed this irrational thought. That is, she curbed it until Lucius told her she would need to touch it in order to enter the memory. She steeled herself and lightly pressed a finger to it.

It was unnerving, like traveling by Portkey. But what was even more unnerving was seeing herself on the chaise, Axel fused to her back as he removed her earrings. She saw herself arch into his touch and was suddenly struck by how right both he and Draco were, she was very much like a cat. She even, mortifyingly, made an almost purring sound. She hurriedly looked away, not being able to bear the sight of herself.

_"You have beautiful hair," he murmured._

"Miss Weasley," Lucius said in order to get her attention. "Where did you see the document?"

Ginny noticed he had no scruples with viewing the couple in front of him. "It's uh over there, on that table."

The two approached it, and she saw Lucius minutely shake his head as the couple next to them began to engage in what could only be described as a thorough snog. When Axel began to pull memory Ginny's zipper down, Lucius turned to her with a raised eyebrow, his glance falling to memory Ginny.

"Are there any nudity issues I should worry about?" Lucius asked.

"No," Ginny squeaked. She cleared her throat, her face painfully hot. "That's it."

"I see," Lucius said. He went back to viewing the document, only pausing to look at the couple when memory Ginny let out a gasp and placed the champagne glass on the table.

_"You're like a kitten."_

She thought she heard Lucius murmur something that sounded suspiciously like, "Typical of a Gryffindor."

_"I'm sorry," Ginny stuttered, jumping as if shocked. 'I just remembered I—uh have a previous engagement. It's getting late."_

Lucius spoke over the voices next to them. "It seems our esteemed Minister—"

_"Ginevra—"_

"—knows exactly what is happening."

_"I'm sorry, Axel," she said, struggling to zip her dress back up. "I'm not this kind of girl, who sleeps with politicians and—"_

Lucius smirked. "Miss Weasley, are you aware that a simple 'no' would suffice? Most gentlemen know that 'no' does in fact mean no."

Ginny refused to answer.

_He stood and helped her zip up the back of her dress. "Dinner tomorrow would be out of the question?"_

"I will have to look into this matter further. It seems this trip—"

_"I don't know if I'll even be here," she whispered. _

"—was not a waste after all."

_"If you ever visit Germany, Ginevra, don't hesitate to schedule a dinner with me—lunch if you prefer."_

Ginny sighed in relief, knowing that it must be over now. They would be back in the hotel room soon, and she could go to her own room and die of embarrassment. But to her horror and Lucius's surprise, the memory seemed to shift, and they were standing in the hallway with Draco facing them. Ginny wondered if a memory could just eat her that way she would die right there.

_"Well, well, it looks like Father didn't need to summon me after all." Draco approached her, eyes trailing across her rumpled hair to the shoes in her hand. "He was right though. The German Minister wouldn't tell him anything, only a younger person could persuade him." _

"You must have been distracted during the extraction," Lucius said beside her. He cleared his throat. "I had not realized where the evening would go, Miss Weasley."

_"It's not what you're thinking," she said hurriedly. "I didn't—"_

"If I had, my son would have never been summoned," he finished.

Ginny realized that was the closest thing she would get to an apology from Lucius Malfoy—in person at least. She had held onto that letter he had written to her when offering her the job.

_"There's a spell to cover that up, Weasley. You might want to try it," he said, reaching out to touch her neck._

_She flinched. "I didn't—"_

_"No need to defend your choices to me, Weasley," he said, smirking. "You're not the first woman to use sex to get their way, and you certainly won't be the last. I never thought you had it in you." _

Abruptly, the memory ended, and she found herself standing on the plush carpet of Lucius's hotel room. A glance in the mirror hanging across the room verified that she was indeed flushed red, her entire body almost trembling from a mixture of frustration and mortification. There was an underlying feeling of resignation as she knew that the situation was out of her control at the moment. But the other two emotions weighed more heavily on the scale.

"I have much to muse on, Miss Weasley." Lucius pointed to an envelope on the table. "Michael has sent me a letter with his demands, and I must see to that. You may have some time to yourself. I will summon you when I need you."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said tiredly. She itched to get her fingers on a cigarette.

"My wife reminded me that I had not informed you of an expense account," Lucius said.

"No," Ginny said.

Lucius handed her a small envelope, the size of a birthday card. "I believe this is yours then. An afternoon to yourself could probably be spent brushing up on your wardrobe."

Ginny walked from the room, ripping the envelope open as soon as the door closed behind her. Inside was a small note from the financial department that explained what would count as a company expense. Her eyes widened as she realized just how much the company would write off. It also stated that Malfoy International had accounts with all major Wizarding establishments in all countries with a branch, and for Muggle establishments, she could use the card enclosed. Inside was an inky black card, a little bigger than a business card, and exactly like the one she had seen Narcissa use on their shopping trip.

Smiling, she decided that a little retail therapy on the Malfoys wouldn't hurt.


	11. Headaches & Business

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

"Miss Weasley!"

Ginny jumped in her seat, blushing when the papers in her hands fell to the floor. "Sorry."

Lucius glanced at the watch on his wrist. "It is verging on three in the morning. I suspect between the travel and the work we've been doing, we could both use some sleep."

Ginny nodded, not sure if she should respond.

"We will convene later in the morning. I will have some meetings that will need rescheduling." He rubbed his forehead. "Also, I believe I will be delegating some of my duties to others. Much of my attention will need to go into solving the Michael problem."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said, making a note for herself to sort out meeting requests as soon as she came in. She glanced down at her notebook. "The meeting with Gladrags is scheduled for eight at Raspberries. Should we meet there or here?"

Lucius stared at the shelves on his wall for a moment. "We will meet here at seven. I need to prepare myself for the meeting. Why are we meeting at Raspberries?"

"It's Wilma Gladrag's favorite breakfast cafe," Ginny said. "I had a table reserved by the window, since she likes the bustle of the morning crowd on High street."

"Astute detective skills, Miss Weasley," Lucius remarked.

"Her assistant talks a lot when we listen to the Quidditch matches at Three Broomsticks," Ginny responded tiredly.

Lucius stood and tied his hair back. "I believe we will both need some rest if we are to be coherent in the morning."

"Not likely," Ginny muttered. She stood as well, organizing her papers into a folder.

"I will have a house elf escort you home, Miss Weasley," Lucius said, pulling on his robes.

"I'll be fine," Ginny said as she struggled to not fall on her way out the office.

"I must insist, Miss Weasley. You're of no use to me as a splinching victim," Lucius said.

"Finally going home?"

Ginny groaned. "Shouldn't you be off sha—sleeping?"

Lucius glanced at the two of them. "You were no doubt sleeping in your office, Draco. Please see Miss Weasley home safely."

"I'd rather not," Draco said, clapping his hands together. "And I will have you know that I went through two financial statements before I took my nap."

"Really, I'm fine," Ginny said.

"Escort her home, Draco," Lucius ordered. With a goodnight, he disappeared from the room.

"Come on Weasley. Where do you live?"

"You can go. I won't tell," Ginny said.

"Weasley, I'm either going to do this nicely or throw you over my shoulders. Either way, I'm taking you home," Draco said, handing her the robes on the back of her chair. "Which will it be?"

"When have you ever been nice?" Ginny exclaimed.

He smirked. "I suppose this will be my first good deed. Now, be my first, Weasley."

Ginny couldn't help it. She burst into laughter. Between not sleeping for twenty hours and a lack of solid food, she was delirious with exhaustion. The fact that Draco Malfoy had just asked her to be his first seemed to be the funniest thing she had ever heard. She held onto the desk, lapsing into hiccup laughter.

"When you're done," Draco drawled.

"You just—" she gasped.

"I know what I said," Draco said with a smirk. "Where do you live?"

And because she could barely breathe let alone protest, she rattled off her address.

"Off we go, Weasley."

Before she could even say okay, he grabbed her arm and the familiar feeling of Apparition overcame her. Unfortunately, her lack of air from laughing, exhaustion, and the fact that all she had eaten in the past eight hours was a biscuit with tea, made the world around her begin to fade. A dizzy feeling overcame her as they landed on her doorstep, and she struggled to hang onto consciousness.

But the last thing she heard before tipping over was, "For Merlin's sake, Weasley."

* * *

"Ginny dear, it's time to wake up."

"Mum?" Ginny groaned as she opened her eyes, bright red hair clouding her vision. "What are you doing here?"

"The Malfoy boy came and got me last night. He said you fainted, and he left you at your apartment." Molly shook her head. "I thought he had left you at your door. But he apparently took you inside, laid you on the bed, and then came to get us."

"Draco Malfoy was in my apartment!" Ginny sat up, touching her head as sharp pain shot through it. "Ow."

"Here, have some of this." Her mother tipped her head back, and she tasted the familiar headache potion. "Better?"

Ginny nodded at the instantaneous relief. "Thank you."

"Tea and breakfast are on the counter. I imagine between being tired and hungry, your body couldn't handle the Apparition." Molly motioned to the clock on her nightstand. "Now you have an important meeting to get to, according to the Malfoy boy. So you had better hurry."

Ginny looked at the time and saw it was five minutes after seven. With a curse, she sprung from the bed and darted to her closet. "I was supposed to be in the office at seven."

"Before you go barreling out of here, Lucius Malfoy sent you a note that said your meeting was pushed back until nine and to meet him at the office at eight." Molly spelled the bed to make itself. "Now, into the kitchen and get some food in you. You look like you could use it."

Her stomach grumbled in response. "Yes, that sounds good."

She left her room and inhaled the smell of bacon, eggs, and her mum's famous biscuits. As soon as she sat down, she was digging in, half the plate gone by the time her mother joined her. Molly's only response to her Ron-like eating was to add some more food to Ginny's plate before pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Now, what is happening to you?" Molly asked.

"What do you mean?" Ginny sipped her tea to wash down some of the food.

"Ginny, you fainted. That isn't healthy," Molly scolded. "You've missed almost all Sunday dinners, and all the letters you write me are two sentences, if I'm lucky."

"I'm pretty sure I have at least three, Mum."

"This is no joking matter, young lady. You had no idea the state your father and I were in when that Malfoy boy showed up at the Burrow. Thank goodness you had the good sense to make someone take you home," Molly said, her tea clinking on the saucer as she set it down. "You would have killed yourself if you tried to Apparate by yourself."

"You should thank Lucius for that actually," Ginny mumbled.

"And here I was worried about the Malfoys destroying you. Now I need to send them thank you notes," Molly said, shaking her head. "Ginny, you have to find time for yourself."

"That's easier said than done, Mum." She shoveled the rest of the food in her mouth. "But I need to get dressed for work."

"I'll leave you to it then," Molly said. She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "If you're not going to sleep, at least remember to eat. I packed some dinners into the refrigerator. Use them."

"Yes, Mum," Ginny said dutifully.

* * *

"I heard you had an eventful night."

Ginny toyed with the pleats at the hem of her skirt. "Yes, sir. I will need to thank your son for his help."

Lucius nodded. "That will be a change from your usual behavior. But to business."

"Mrs. Gladrag is an upstanding member of the clothing community. She was one of the first in the business to integrate Muggle clothing into her lines when she realized the popularity. She's also a fan of gardening and classical music. She sings in the Hogsmeade Witches Choir, and she hates chocolate," Ginny rattled off. "She's also going to have her daughter, Joy Sang handle the business. But Joy always does what her mother wants her to do."

"How do we know that?" asked Lucius, looking up

"Joy married Edison Sang, a French man. She hated him whenever he was invited to the dances at Beauxbatons. She was, according to the gossip, in love with Malcolm Smith, an Englishman, who plays piano in pubs. He's a Muggle, and her mother didn't approve. So she married Edison, her mother's choice," Ginny said.

"The Quidditch loving assistant?"

"No, Joy went to school with my sister-in-law." Ginny shrugged. "Once I knew where she went, I just asked my sister-in-law if she knew her. If you ever meet Fleur, you'll know why I know all of this information. She adores gossip."

"Well, I believe we are all set for the meeting. Let's take a look at some of these meetings I have later this week," Lucius said. "The board meeting will have to be pushed back to next week. I am not prepared to deal with them this week. I will be passing the Nimbus account to Draco, so he will deal with the meeting on Thursday. Cancel the meeting with Nott on Friday. Find some time in the schedule for him next week. I will be going to Germany on Thursday. I have some matters to deal with concerning Mr. Gerber."

"And the Zabini Fundraiser on Saturday?" Ginny questioned.

"I will have Draco attend that as well." Lucius sighed. "Does my son have an assistant at the moment?"

"No, not that I'm aware of," Ginny said, scribbling notes into her planner. "It's Mrs. Nott's birthday by the way. Should we send a floral arrangement?"

"Yes, find out what she likes."

"Freesias and lilies. I can have an arrangement made," Ginny said. "Is there anything you would like me to tell the board?"

"I have a pressing matter to attend to in Germany," Lucius said. "And I will need you to come to Germany with me, Miss Weasley. Also, since my son is out of an assistant, I will spare you for a day or two. I need you to go with him to the Nimbus meeting."

Ginny felt queasy. "Yes, sir."

"I will be leaving for Germany early morning on Thursday. "

"The Nimbus meeting is on Thursday," Ginny said. "The one I will be attending with Draco."

Lucius sighed. "Yes, I suppose I can spare you for the morning. I do not need you when I do my run through at the office in Germany. However, you will join me Thursday evening. See what will be happening in the political circles this week and let me know."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said. The thought of the Portkey traveling she would have to do made her exhausted. "And for the Zabini Fundraiser on Saturday?"

"The meeting with Gerber is set for Friday morning. We will have to get you here for the Zabini Fundraiser. You will be Draco's escort to the Zabini function," Lucius said.

"I'm sure he can find himself someone more suitable," Ginny said.

"Miss Weasley, consider it a compliment that I want you to accompany my son," Lucius said.

"Or a punishment," she muttered quietly.

"I am afraid that he would bring the wrong company," Lucius said. "It is not negotiable."

"Yes, sir," she said, too tired to argue. "Should I be prepared to leave from Germany and go straight to the fundraiser?"

"No, we will keep your return date as Friday evening, tentatively. If not, I will have you out of Germany by Saturday morning," Lucius said. "Explain the situation to the transportation department, and they will take the necessary measures to get you home. I have been told by my wife that traveling long distances by Portkey while formally dressed does not bode well for women."

"I can only imagine," Ginny said. She scribbled her notes down. "Will that be all?"

"For now," Lucius said. "Send a copy of the new arrangements to Draco."

Ginny left the room, doing her best not to stomp like a toddler. Not only was she Lucius's assistant, but now she was being passed off to Draco. She paused, cringing as she thought of the double entendre. She didn't want to think of Draco Malfoy in that way ever and certainly not Lucius. She was still scarred by the fact that she had blushed when he spoke French to her.

She sat in her chair and threw herself into work, sending out letters to the appropriate people and copying the new schedule for Draco. As she went to place the letter in her outbox, she snatched it back, thinking that she could thank him while delivering the schedule. She could casually throw it into the conversation, and it wouldn't be a big deal.

Standing, she checked the clock. She could use the meeting as an excuse to leave if he got too chatty. She stuck her head into Lucius's office and let him know where she was going. He looked at her briefly before waving her away. With a shrug, she left the office and walked down the hall, pausing as she pushed open the door to Draco's outer office.

"Hello?"

The office was completely dark, the drapes drawn shut. For a moment, she thought he must not be in, but then she heard a slew of curses come from his office. Her eyebrows rose as she walked towards his open office door. She could see the faint glow of what must have been a candle, and when she stepped into his doorway, she saw that she was correct.

Draco was sitting at his desk, his head resting against his chair. She could see that he had thrown his jacket haphazardly across the desk, and he was massaging his temples. Illuminated by candlelight, his features were stark, and she could see the harsh lines that crossed his face when he cringed. From the way his face contorted, she could tell that whatever was happening to him was painful.

"Weasley, I'm assuming you're not here to watch me," he said, his voice soft. "Of course, I'm sure you can't resist gazing in adoration."

"Prat," Ginny muttered. She cleared her throat. "I wanted to deliver a copy of the schedule your father has. You'll be taking his place for the Nimbus meeting and the Zabini fundraiser."

"Fun," he drawled, not moving from his position. "Just leave it on the desk."

She slipped into the room and placed the parchment on his jacket. "There you are. I'll be attending both events with you so I can go over your father's meeting points with you prior to the Nimbus meeting."

"Father must think I'm incapable of getting a date," he said.

"I'll be seeing you then," she said. She awkwardly pivoted. "Oh, thanks for last night by the way."

She was almost to the door when he drawled, "Nice, Weasley. Taking advantage of the situation so I can't taunt you for your apology."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ginny shook her head.

He chuckled and then winced. "Until next time, Weasley."

She went to leave but noticed the thin sheen of perspiration on his face. Whatever was happening was painful enough for him to drop his guard and present himself in this manner to her. Cursing her good nature and watching the time, she withdrew her wand from the special pocket in her sleeve. She transfigured a tissue into a soft flannel and warmed the water in his glass. She dipped the flannel into the glass, making sure it wasn't too wet.

When she went to place it on his forehead, his hand snapped around her wrist, his grip firm.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I thought this would help."

One gray eye opened and looked at her, but the pain overrode speech because he simply let her hand go. He linked his hands and rested them on his stomach, hiding the subtle shake. She gently rested the flannel across his forehead, covering his eyes as well. If she felt anyway about helping Draco Malfoy, her Weasley-helpfulness trait wouldn't allow her to indulge in it.

"Is it just a headache?" she asked quietly. "Did you try a potion?"

"Uncle Severus—"

"You call Snape Uncle Severus?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"As I was saying, Uncle Severus says that it will be unresponsive to potions. Side effects of prolonged time under the Cruciatus," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh." She removed the flannel and ran her wand across her fingertips. "Here, this might help."

He flinched when she touched his temples, but she could see his face relax as she gently massaged his temples.

"During the recovery after the war, there were a lot of patients with this type of after effect. I helped Madam Pomfrey with them. The best remedy was to use warmth to help loosen the muscles," Ginny said methodically. She had given this speech many times after the war. "It was my job since I wasn't certified as a healer. It was all I could do."

She trailed off when she noticed his even breathing and the relaxed lines in his face. Ginny could tell that he hadn't gotten much sleep, if the dark circles beneath his eyes were anything to go off. Knowing what she knew about the after effects of being exposed to Cruciatus, he had probably been in pain for hours.

She blew out the candle and moved to leave the room. When she reached the doorway, she met the figure of Lucius Malfoy, almost letting out a frightened yelp in the process. Instead, she gave him a blank stare to match his own, and he eyed the shadowy figure of his son behind her. Nodding, he led the way out of the office and into the hallway.

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," he said mutely. Then, as if nothing happened, "We will be late. Come along."

She shook her head and summoned her purse and book. "You're welcome."

"And Miss Weasley, I would appreciate if news of my son's health did not circulate," Lucius said quietly. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Wilma Gladrag was an older woman, probably in her early sixties. She had inherited the shop from her mother, who had inherited it from her father. The business had been family run for centuries, and they had no willingness to change that particular aspect of the business. But they were open to the idea of management as long as they kept the namesake of their company and had the most say.

"Mrs. Gladrag," Lucius greeted with a charming smile.

"Lucius Malfoy, a pleasure," she said. She pointed at Ginny. "And who is the woman with the wonderful taste? That robe is from my latest line. Nice, is it not?"

"Yes, very," Ginny said. "I had to go back and buy it in all the colors."

"You flatter me so, Ms. . . ."

"Weasley," Ginny said.

"Come, come. Sit. Have you met my daughter, Joy?" Wilma patted down her pepper gray hair. "She deals with all the nasty work. I'm simply here for the food."

"Have you been here before?" asked Lucius, pulling out Ginny's chair for her.

"Oh many times, Mr. Malfoy," Wilma said. She glanced out the window. "I like to look at all the shoppers. I hope some will go to my store."

"I'm sure they will," Ginny said reassuringly. "I myself need some time to go and buy some of those new trousers on display."

Wilma clapped her hands together. "Aren't they darling?"

"They are," Ginny said. "It's a blend of feminine and masculine."

The older woman leaned forward. "You hit the Hippogriff on the beak, Ms. Weasley. I kept thinking to myself, why do women have to wear skirts to be seen as feminine? I mean look at you, for example, you might be an assistant but you're not just any assistant. You're the assistant to one of the most powerful people in the Wizarding world. People admire you based on work ethic, not how long your legs are."

Ginny glanced at Lucius's amused expression, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't know if he was more amused at Wilma's flattery to him or her ramble about women being able to wear trousers.

"Well, thank you," Ginny said.

Joy cleared her throat. "I've looked over your proposal in detail, Mr. Malfoy."

"Did you have any issues with it?" asked Lucius. He pulled out a copy of the proposal. "I am sure we can reach an agreement if there are any."

"Well, I feel the percentages are off," Joy said. "The gains that we will be making are less than I had hoped."

"All this business," Wilma said dismissively. "Ms. Weasley, would you care to go get another cup of tea with me?"

"Yes, I would like that," Ginny said, ignoring her full cup.

"Now, are you seeing anyone Ms. Weasley?" Wilma asked.

Ginny shook her head. "Who has the time? Work is rather busy at the moment. We do all we can to make sure the businesses are run successfully."

"Oh, but Ms. Weasley you must make time for yourself," Wilma said. "My daughter Joy would never have settled down unless I nudged her in the right direction."

"I'm sure she's highly appreciative of that gesture," Ginny said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice. They approached the counter, and Ginny smiled at the server. "Can I have two teas, please?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the server said.

Wilma crossed her arms and stared at Ginny. "You know, I have a nephew, and he would be perfect for you. Plus he is currently working out of the country, so your busy schedule would be no issues."

Ginny suppressed the urge to vehemently say no. "That is awfully kind—"

"Oh, I refuse to take no for an answer. I'll just give him your name and contact information. I'll just need your address," she said, motioning to the server. "Do you have a piece of parchment and a quill?"

The server nodded. "Here you go."

Ginny wished he had said no. Instead, she scribbled her work address down, hoping Wilma would not be able to decipher her writing. "That should be all he needs. I spend most of the time at the office, so it's the best place to reach me."

"Fantastic," Wilma said. She smiled and patted Ginny's cheek affectionately. "He's quite handsome. I think you'll love him."

"I'm sure," Ginny said with a sigh.

They moved back to the table, joining Lucius and Joy. By the look on Lucius's face, she knew the rumors about Joy were true: she was a tough businesswoman. Ginny mentally steeled herself for a long afternoon with a very unhappy Lucius Malfoy. She wondered if perhaps Draco would stop in to just put a dollop of cream on the pie. Nothing would rankle Lucius more than having Draco comment on his failure to seal a good deal. And nothing would amuse Draco more than to rankle his father—he just seemed the type to enjoy blood sport.

"Joy, hand over the contract," Wilma said, boredom etched into the wrinkles on her face. "I would like to see what has you prolonging our time here."

Ginny's hopes lifted. Perhaps all that had been rumored would be true. If Lucius could get Wilma to agree to the contract, it would certainly be smooth sailing—_if_ the rumors were true. She prayed to every God and deity out there that her sister-in-law would be correct. By the triumphant smirk on Lucius's face, Ginny knew he was thinking along the same lines as her.

"I was explaining to your daughter that Malfoy International would only require a thirty-five percent profit monthly—"

"With an added fee yearly for services rendered," Joy pointed out. "And with no approval of those fees or services, we would have no control over how much we are charged."

Lucius turned his attention back to Joy. "Any fee that you can prove was not beneficial to your company will be absorbed by Malfoy International."

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Everyone knew that you couldn't win an argument against a Malfoy. It was almost impossible—especially in business.

"I think that sounds like a deal," Wilma said.

"Mother, I—"

"Sometimes I wish I had a son," Wilma said with a smile. She signed her name at the bottom of the contract with a flourish of her quill. "Now that the business is settled, Miss Weasley we should arrange tea. I've just gotten some inspiration for a new line of casual clothing. You will be my muse."

"Er—"

"I won't take no for an answer," Wilma said, waggling her finger at Ginny. "Your hair is divine. I think I have a whole new set of formalwear in mind. I just need to put my finger on it."

"Right," Ginny said, feigning gratitude. "I would love to. You have my address."

"I will be sure to contact you," Wilma said, grinning. She clapped her hands together. "Now that we're all set, I must excuse myself. I have a Portkey I need to catch to Rome in about an hour, and I desperately need to pack. Have you ever had gelato at the Trevi Fountain at night, Ms. Weasley? It's the best inspiration an old woman can find."

"It sounds beautiful," Ginny said.

"Oh it is," Wilma said. "Perhaps we'll have you pop over to Rome for a visit. You can stay with us at our estate in Rome."

"If I ever have a free weekend," Ginny said with a smile.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Malfoy," Wilma said.

Lucius kissed her hand. "You as well, Mrs. Gladrag. Mrs. Sang, I look forward to working with you in the future."

"Likewise," Joy said, obviously miffed about the contract.

The two women exited the small shop, and Lucius folded the contract, handing it to Ginny. "See that this gets to our Accounts department."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, placing it in her bag.

"A letter to the board would not be amiss either," Lucius mused. "Let them know we have secured the contract, and an onboarding team will be deployed to Gladrag's main office within the next two weeks."

Ginny scribbled the note down in her book. "Do you want the itinerary for Germany sent to you at home?"

"No, I will be in the office within the next hour," Lucius said, glancing at his watch. "I would like a copy of my schedule for the next week sent to my wife's assistant. Is it still Astoria?"

"As far as I am aware, yes," Ginny said. "Should I include Germany's itinerary as well?"

"Yes," Lucius said. "I imagine she will have to reschedule some of our social events."

"I will do it as soon as I get back to the office," Ginny said. She closed her book with a snap and set it into her bag. "Will that be all?"

"You may return to the office," Lucius said. "I have some business to attend to at Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said. She stood, and Lucius rose with her. "I will see you at the office."

"And Miss Weasley?"

Ginny turned to face him. "Sir?"

"Do remember to eat something," Lucius drawled. "I would hate to have your mother think that I am the reason you are fainting at your doorstep."

Mortified, Ginny's cheeks bloomed red. "Yes, of course."

"That is all," Lucius said with a smirk.

* * *

This was very much meant to be an episodic, slow-burn story. I know everyone is anxious for more DG interactions - and it will eventually come for better or for well, you know. So brace yourselves, the DG is coming.


	12. Twilight Zone

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

* * *

"Weasley, you managed to make it through a meeting without a wardrobe malfunction." Draco donned his silver-rimmed aviators, unbuttoning his navy pinstripe jacket. "You're really coming up in the world."

"You're hilarious, Malfoy," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. Too bad he didn't know she had spent twenty minutes doing lunges across her flat to make sure her turquoise pants wouldn't split open. She handed him a thick envelope. "This is for you, from your father."

Draco carelessly stuffed the envelope in his jacket pocket. "Come on, Weasley. Let's go have a drink. Celebrate."

Ginny scoffed. "I have a Portkey to catch to Germany in two hours."

"Weasley, you have to loosen up a little," Draco drawled. "Unbutton your jacket, eat some food—"

"Go to work," Ginny interrupted.

"All work and no play makes Weasley a dull girl," Draco said in a singsong tone. He grabbed her journal from her hand. "Now, if you want to get your journal back, you'll come have lunch with me."

"Malfoy, I will kick you in your Malfoy heirlooms and tell all these Muggles you're harassing me," Ginny whispered, making a grab for her journal. "Now give me back my book."

"Heirlooms? When did you become such a prude," Draco said, holding her journal out of reach. "Are you the type of woman, who doesn't say words like tit?"

"I can say it if I would like," Ginny said with a huff. "I choose not to."

"Weasley, let's go," Draco said. He motioned for her to follow him. "You really are far too uptight for your own good. What happened to the Ginny Weasley, who could knock Potter off a broom if she wanted?"

"Why do you even want to have lunch with me?" asked Ginny. "You don't like me."

"You're interesting enough," Draco said with a shrug. "Plus, you are pulling double duty here. I need a rundown of my schedule according to my father."

"I hate my life," Ginny muttered. "Hand over the journal."

"We are refined people, Weasley," Draco drawled. He tucked the journal inside his jacket. "We can wait until lunch."

Ginny huffed, trailing behind him. She wanted to maintain a certain distance in order to avoid talking to him. Plus, the gray shoes she had the unfortunate pleasure of wearing made walking difficult. Luckily, they weren't going far, as Draco paused outside of a swanky restaurant five shops down from their meeting location. It was a Muggle restaurant by the looks of it, and Ginny wondered why Draco would be stopping there.

"Sir," the doorman nodded, holding the door open.

Draco removed his glasses, tucking them into his breast pocket. "Coming, Weasley?"

"Here?" Ginny brushed invisible lint off her lapels. "It looks a little fancy for lunch and very, ahem, you know."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't."

"The _M_ word," Ginny whispered, leaning closer to him. "Aren't you, you know, scared of them or something?"

Draco started laughing. Ginny had to resist the urge to look up and make sure the sky was still completely in tact. Surely by now it would be falling. Draco Malfoy was standing outside a Muggle restaurant, _laughing_. She knew more ridiculous things had happened—for example, she was his father's personal assistant. But the idea of Draco Malfoy laughing was a foreign one.

"The Weasleys, famous for loving Muggles, had a daughter, who doesn't want to dine with them," Draco said.

"Shush," Ginny said, glancing around her to make sure they weren't creating a spectacle. "It's not that I don't want to. I thought that—"

"Weasley, we all have to grow up at some point," Draco said, shaking his head. He nodded to the doorman, handing him some paper money. "Now, would you come in and eat. Maybe if you put something in your mouth, you'll refrain from ridiculous notions."

Ginny's mouth snapped shut, her cheeks reddening. "That did not sound—"

"I know." Draco winked, gesturing her to walk in front of him. "If we're keeping up this farce that you're a _lady_, you should really go in first."

"I really despise you," Ginny said, ignoring the look of pity on the doorman's face.

"The feeling is mutual, Weasley," Draco said, entering the restaurant.

The hostess eyed the two of them up and down, her eyes lingering on Ginny's handbag. "You'll want a private booth then."

"If it's no trouble, love," Draco said, flirtatiously.

The hostess giggled. "Of course not, sir."

"She's probably still illegal, Malfoy," Ginny said in disgust. She eyed the opulent décor and the small plate sizes. "Isn't this a little posh for _lunch_?"

"Nothing is too posh for me," Draco said.

They were seated in the back of the restaurant, and the waiter, a moody thirty-something, briefly stopped by to drop off their menus. Considering the prices of the meals on the menu, they could have afforded to have a more personable staff. Then again, the hostess looked like she would do anything for customer service, including seclude Draco in a back room for a few minutes. The blond man seemed to be doing a very good job at ignoring her advances, despite the fact that the poor girl was practically salivating over him and showing far too much cleavage than was professional.

"Ignore the girl. It happens all the time," Draco said. He looked down at his menu. "The salmon is very good here."

"Is this why you like Muggle places? The girls drool over you?" Ginny browsed the menu. "It's a little sad. These prices are ostentatious."

"Weasley, I'm not the only one she's salivating at," Draco said with a smug grin.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny glanced at the waitress, noticing that she was indeed staring at both of them. "Well, I guess we all have to explore at some point."

"We should get back to that exploration. But she's not envious of your body, Weasley." Draco scoffed, calling over the waiter. "I'll have a scotch on the rocks."

"Water for me," Ginny said.

"And I will take the salmon," Draco said.

"I'll have the pork loin," Ginny said, closing her menu. "What exactly is she envious of?"

Draco smirked. "For starters, she wants to have your life. To her, you're the girlfriend or assistant to a very handsome business man."

Ginny scoffed. "Your self-flattery is unneeded."

"Your work provides you with enough money to purchase a suit that costs more than how much she pays for rent." Draco leaned across the table, lowering his voice as people passed them. "Your bag is highly sought after. Do you know there's a waiting list for it?"

"I'm beginning to wonder about you, Malfoy," Ginny said softly. "You know spells to mend clothing and the price of clothes and bags. It's all starting to add up."

"For your information, Mother has griped about having to be put on the waiting list for a Birkin bag," Draco said, leaning back in his booth. "She has seven of them, and I'm not sure why she decided to give one to _you_."

Not knowing what to say, Ginny pointed at his breast pocket. "My journal."

"You're the boring sort," Draco said, fishing the journal out of his pocket. He munched on one of the crisp flatbreads the waiter brought out for them. "I imagine my father has some sort of dull schedule in mind for me."

"You could always read the letter your father sent you," Ginny said. "It's all in there."

"What kind of father is he?" Draco shook his head. "He can't even write a letter himself. He has to dictate it to his assistant."

"Funny." Ginny flipped open her book, running her finger across the page. "It looks like you are not on my radar until Saturday. You are attending the Zabini Fundraiser."

"With you," Draco said. He grinned. "This should be awfully fun."

"Yes, a night with you torturing me," Ginny muttered. "It sounds extremely fun."

"Weasley, you really need to let loose every now and again," Draco said.

"No, I really need to get to Germany on time. And I really need to get more than three hours of sleep. I need to go in for a regularly scheduled check up. I need to get a new flat with enough room to fit all the bloody clothes your mother _made_ me get. I need to buy food for my flat. I need Marcus Flint to stop sending me letters three times a day for a date. Oh and I absolutely _need_ to schedule some time to visit my family. There are many things I need, Malfoy, and loosening up is not very high on my list."

By the time she was done with her rant, they had garnered a few glances. Her cheeks flushed with both anger and embarrassment, and she tried to salvage what was left of the bread in her hand. If there was one thing she hadn't needed to do, it was vent to Draco Malfoy about her life. He was the last person she wanted in her personal life, and she knew she would spend the rest of lunch being the butt of his jokes.

"Your scotch," the waiter said. "Anything else?"

"A bottle of your Silex Sauvignon Blanc," Draco said. "And one wine glass for the lady."

"I can't drink," Ginny whispered heatedly as the waiter walked away. "I have to work."

"Weasley, your little tirade shows me you really need to loosen up," Draco said, ignoring her protests. "Plus, three glasses of wine will wear off in five hours."

"My Portkey is in two," Ginny said, stabbing a piece of carrot.

"In about ten minutes, my father will be receiving a letter that I need your assistance at a meeting with the head of the Falcons team," Draco said, glancing at his watch. He smirked at her surprised gaze. "Now, I think a thank you would work well here."

"Sod off," Ginny muttered.

"Is that any way to speak to your savior," Draco said, opening his arms to receive her thanks. "If Potter can be a savior, so can I."

"Always back to Harry," Ginny said idly. "Are you sure you don't want me to try and set you up?"

"So it's true. Potter does like Weasley more than—"

"Yes, Potter did like me at one point," Ginny interrupted. "I liked him too."

"Yet you're not shagging and having babies like a good Weasley girl should," Draco said. He took the wine bottle from the waiter, waving him away. "Why ever not?"

Ginny spared a glance between Draco's hand and the glass. "Just a small one."

"Didn't catch that," Draco said, handing her a full, goblet sized wine glass. "Now, drink up and tell me why you're not procreating. You're a lesbian, aren't you? You explored and stayed out on your expedition – never bothered to come back. I know a few girls who I could—"

"As amusing as the thought is to you, I'm not," Ginny said, savoring the white wine on her tongue. "And my lack of procreation is none of your business."

"Oh," Draco said, nodding and topping off her glass. "It's one of those female issues. Should I get us a box of tissues?"

"Female issues?" Ginny tried not to slosh the wine over the rim as she sipped at the smooth liquid. "I don't think I even know what a 'female issue' would be."

"If it's sensitive Weasley—"

"You'll still manage to muck things up and be an insensitive prat?" Ginny finished.

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

"What exactly is a female issue?"

"You got hit by a Bludger one too many times and can't procreate," Draco said indifferently. He swirled the ice in his glass, carelessly waving his arm as he spoke. "Or you fell down the stairs at Hogwarts at a bad angle. Maybe you had an accident with your wand in your first year."

"You really are an insensitive prat," Ginny said, not the least bit upset about it. It was nothing new. "If any of those things were actually true, I would have to throw my wine in your face and stomp out of here."

"Wine is very difficult to get out of this material," Draco said, gesturing to his pristine suit.

"You better watch out then," Ginny warned. "I may just have to get a little sloppy—with my wine. And what in the world would you be doing with your wand to—"

Draco cut her off with a crude motion with his hand. "Come on Weasley, don't tell me you never tried."

"Why in the world would I try that? What if you accidentally shot off a spell?" Ginny wrinkled her nose before taking a sip of her wine.

"St. Mungo's wouldn't have been surprised to see you," Draco said.

"Please tell me you had to take one of our classmates to St. Mungo's." Ginny leaned forward, pausing to take a sip of wine. "Was it Pansy?"

Draco shrugged, pouring more wine into her glass. "I don't remember."

"You can't leave me hanging," Ginny said, leaning back to drink more wine. "This wine really is delicious."

Draco glanced at the half empty bottle. "I can see you're enjoying it."

"So Pansy?"

"First, who was the littlest Weasley experimenting with at Hogwarts?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a prude."

"I never said I did any experimenting," Ginny said, turning away. "And you know, you should never assume things about people."

"People assume. It's what we do," Draco said with a shrug. He raised his glass in a mock toast. "It's what you do."

"I don't—"

"Assumptions are a heady thing. Everyone assumes they're right. It's why we had a war," Draco said. "Drink up, Weasley. I want to hear all about your sordid past."

"You won't." Ginny eyed the glass warily, noting that she had an excessive amount of wine in a short time span. "I really don't need anymore."

"You don't want to be wasteful, do you?" Draco smirked, calling over the waiter for a refill. "Just bring a bottle."

"Sir, we don't—"

Draco pulled out a black card and put it down on the table. "I think you can rethink your next statement."

"Yes, sir."

"Always buying things with money, aren't you Malfoy?"

"Money makes the world go round, Weasley. You'd do well to remember that," Draco said. He opened the new bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. "As my father's assistant, you're certainly going to be more privy to it. Tell me how you ended up in this job."

"I didn't have much of a choice," Ginny said sullenly, reaching for the wine glass. "Your father forced my hand."

"Oh, there's always a choice, Weasley," Draco said, smirking. "Your sanctimonious friends used to tell me that all the time."

"In for a Knut, in for a Galleon," Ginny said, topping off her glass for the wine. "If we're going to talk Malfoy, we better not bring up the war. I can't be an adult when I talk about it."

"But you can talk about your explorations," Draco said with a wink. "Was it Granger? She's got an awful lot of hair though – that might tickle and be uncomfortable."

Ginny couldn't help it. She loved Hermione, but she laughed. "That's vile."

"Lovegood, maybe? She had a little—"

"Enough," Ginny said, shaking her head. "You've passed through the valley of inappropriateness and entered into the land of the disgusting."

"You know, I think this prude behavior is all just an act," Draco said, leaning forward. "It is, isn't it? Don't worry, I'll keep your secret."

"Yes, if keeping a secret means plastering it in the Daily Prophet and running a daily ad," Ginny said. She finished her glass of wine with a satisfied smile. "I despise you, Malfoy. But you have good taste in wine."

"Amongst other things," Draco said.

"So who tried the thing with their wand?" Ginny whispered, mindful of the Muggle waiter eyeing them with impatience. "Please tell me it was Pansy."

"Secrets. Secrets." He smirked and waved over the waiter, handing over his card. "I think we're done."

Ginny pouted. "Fine."

Draco signed the slip of paper that the waiter handed to him, standing and buttoning his jacket. "A little wine and you revert back to a five year old."

"A little?" Ginny stood unsteadily. "You plied me with wine."

"We always have a choice, Weasley. Always," he said, donning his aviators.

Ginny chose to ignore him and concentrate on the floor that seemed to be sloping downwards. All the while ignoring the fact that she had a somewhat decent lunch with _Draco Malfoy._

* * *

A few hours later, an earnest, German speaking chauffeur was greeting a slightly groggy Ginny at her Portkey point. She should have stopped drinking wine after she found herself actually enjoying Draco's company. She blamed the potent, delicious wine he had practically forced down her throat for everything that happened at lunch. There was no other explanation. None. It was just the wine. She was not friendly with Draco Malfoy. Absolutely not.

She allowed the chauffer to lead her into the car, letting out a startled yelp when she realized she was not alone. "Mr. Malfoy!"

"Miss Weasley," Lucius greeted. He glanced down at his watch. "You'll have to change. We are attending dinner this evening with the head of the Germany branch."

Ginny looked down at the blazer and denims she wore. "I'm assuming this is not appropriate then."

"Your humor is odd," Lucius drawled. He waved his wand at the back of her seat, causing the chair back to dissolve. "Your trunk. We will be there in twenty-five minutes. Use your time wisely."

"What?"

Lucius simply waved his wand once more, and a barrier assembled between them. "Twenty-four minutes, Miss Weasley."

Ginny suppressed a groan, tugging on her trunk. It took a lot of maneuvering as well as a few bumps before Ginny actually removed a dress from her trunk. Once that was done, the process was anything but smooth. By the time she had changed into the purple, jewel-toned lace dress, she had a few scratches from her trunk edge, and her head was beginning to ache. Her attempts to put on the strappy shoes she found were unsuccessful, and she eventually settled on a pair of simple black pumps. She could care less how it all looked, especially since Lucius did not deign to enquire about her state of dress before dissolving the barrier.

He gave her a once over, pointedly glancing at her hair until she performed a quick spell to straighten it. "That will do."

"I'll consider that a compliment," Ginny muttered. She shoved her old clothing into her trunk, sliding it back into place. A quick cleansing charm and makeup refresher made her feel a little less harried. "Is there a purpose to this meeting?"

"It's a dinner party actually," Lucius said. "I imagine some affluent people from German society will be there."

"Are you saying the Minister might be in attendance?" asked Ginny, her stomach sinking at the thought.

"Perhaps. Wesley invested a lot in Gerber's campaign for Minister," Lucius said.

"And this trip is about getting face time with the Minister," Ginny added.

"Indeed." He stared at her, deep in thought. "And you Miss Weasley?"

"I don't understand, sir," Ginny said, perplexed.

"Are you looking to have more 'face time' with the Minister?" asked Lucius. "To speak plainly since subtleness is lost on you."

Ginny did not roll her eyes, no matter how strongly she wished. "No, sir."

"Even if it helps the company?" Lucius drawled.

"I'm not sure, sir," Ginny said, squirming in her seat. "I find that I have confused the meaning of your last directive concerning Minister Gerber."

"To be frank, Miss Weasley, I do not care what it is that you do with Axel Gerber. Simply keep in mind that you are a representation of Malfoy International and as such have a responsibility to maintain decorum," Lucius said. He straightened his jacket. "I can only imagine that Axel Gerber would be a step up on your list of tawdry affairs from Marcus Flint."

Lucius Malfoy was teasing her. The world was going to combust very soon. "I think anyone would be a step up from Marcus Flint."

He made a noncommittal sound. "Just remember Miss Weasley, any information that could be valuable to the company would be appreciated."

"Of course," Ginny said, still uncomfortable with the idea of subterfuge.

"How did your day with my son go?" asked Lucius, idly browsing through a folder in his lap. "I imagine the two of you managed to make it through the day amicably."

Ginny wondered if he knew about their alcohol-imbued lunch. "Fine."

"Just fine?" Lucius raised an eyebrow, snapping the folder shut. "Was there an issue at the Nimbus meeting?"

"No, no," Ginny said quickly. "Er, well, he signed. The contract is at the office now being properly handled."

"Is there something you wish to share? Something concerning my son, perhaps?"

She had the faintest idea that her face was blooming red. "Nothing. No. We uhm had the meetings, and they went fi—well."

Thankfully, she was stopped from any further embarrassment by the car coming to a smooth halt. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief, especially considering how her stomach immediately tied into knots. The last time she had seen Axel Gerber, she had been viewing their interaction through a Pensieve. It had been an experience, and she did not wish to repeat it. Handsome as he was, Axel Gerber was off limits to her morality. Every time she thought of him, she thought of how close she had come to shagging a man for information. She didn't fancy herself one of those spies from the Muggle movies Hermione made her watch, and she had no intention of emulating their behavior.

"Shall we?" Lucius held out his hand to help her out of the car. "We have arrived late."

Ginny stood shakily on her feet, thrown off by her heels. But with a few practice steps, she was able to regain some sort of balance, ignoring Lucius's smirk of amusement. She secretly thought that Lucius enjoyed making her dress up and wear the ridiculous shoes that ensnared her feet, if only to enjoy her discomfort.

"Lucius!"

Wesley Wright was not German by descent, if his accent was anything to go by. In fact, Ginny was rather sure that he was an American, from New York. The boisterous way in which he greeted Lucius meant that he was not European. No one familiar with aristocracy would be so jovial with a Malfoy, unless they were Hagrid. Ginny was convinced that if Voldemort had appeared at Hagrid's door for tea, the half-giant would have handed him a rock cake.

"Wesley," Lucius said, shaking the man's hand. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Like I would let you dine out while you're here," Wesley said. He was an older man, slightly rounded around the middle with a pair of unfortunate suspenders framing his extra roundness. "You must be the new Romilda. I daresay Lucius's correspondences are a lot less flowery of late."

"This is Ginevra Weasley, my assistant," Lucius said.

"Come in," Wesley said, ushering them into a modestly sized home. "We're just starting. The Minister has not arrived yet, so we're all indulging in some drink."

They followed Wesley into a modestly sized home. It was not as ostentatious as Ginny would have expected it to be. In fact, it looked like a very normal home. The entrance had a small fireplace, which looked like it functioned only as a connection to the Floo, and a coat closet sat off to the side. Connected to the entrance was a doorway that led into a sitting room, and one that led into a dining room. They followed Wesley into the sitting room, which was large and held several armchairs and sofas.

"Lucius Malfoy, it has been far too long, old friend."

"Connor Mange, how are you?" Lucius smiled at the brown haired man. "Still teaching Potions?"

"Lady Mange asks me to retire. She hates for me to be away from the vineyard," Connor said. "But I do love to teach."

"How are the grapes coming along this year?" asked Lucius.

"Severus and I managed to create a suitable potion for soil fertilization," Connor said. "The grapes will stay in season year round. Business has never been better."

"Narcissa has not stopped speaking of the bottle you sent her on her birthday," Lucius said. "She finished it rather quickly."

"Ah, yes, a good vintage that one." Connor smiled. "If you don't get a chance to stop by the vineyard, I will be sure to send a few bottles to your hotel."

"It would be appreciated," Lucius said. He motioned to Ginny. "Allow me to introduce you to Ginevra Weasley, my assistant."

"Ms. Weasley, a pleasure," Connor said, kissing her hand. "I am Connor Mange."

"Nice to meet you," Ginny said.

"Weasley, you say?" He stroked his short beard. "Any relation to Charlie Weasley?"

"He's my brother," Ginny said.

"Ah, a fine man," Connor said. "We recently had him at our vineyard, nasty business with a baby dragon that was loose on the town. He has quite the dangerous job and left with more than a few burns for his effort."

"I'm positive he had fun with taming it," Ginny said with a small smile. "He adores the danger. It drives my mum absolutely batty."

"He did tell me he was one of seven children," Connor said, smiling. "It must have been a lively household."

"Not a moment of peace," Ginny said.

"And that must mean you're the Ginevra Weasley that my nephew met in New York," he said.

"This is Axel Gerber's uncle," Lucius said upon Ginny's quizzical look.

"Oh," Ginny said. "Well, yes, that would be me."

"He told my wife and I that you were very charming. I see what he means," Connor said.

"If you would excuse us," Lucius said. "I have to have a word with Wesley."

"Oh yes," Connor said. "I must go see if I can't find a bit of wine around here."

Before Ginny could process what had been said, the room fell in a subdued hush. She turned to the source of everyone's gaze and saw none other than Axel Gerber, a pretty brunette on his arm. She could have easily stepped out of the pages of one of the trashy Muggle magazines Hermione occasionally indulged. Having no feelings for the German minister, there was no sense of jealousy that washed over her, confusion but not jealousy. She hoped that he was not involved with anyone when he had snogged the sense out of her, if only briefly, not more than two days ago in New York.

"You and his uncle are so—"

"Do not let the friendliness fool you, Miss Weasley," Lucius said. "Connor Mange can be very deceptive when the mood strikes him. Now I only need to see through his game of mentioning Gerber to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, her eyes flitting across the room to the young minister. "I don't—"

"He would not so casually mention it if there was not something he meant to discern from it," Lucius said thoughtfully. "Connor and I are acquaintances and were friendly once upon a time. But much has changed in the past few years, and I have no doubt that many of Gerber's stories of me come from his Uncle Connor's own mouth."

"This is so—"

"Deceptive?" Lucius smirked. "I suppose it keeps me on my toes."

"I was going to say confusing," Ginny said, noting Lucius's happiness at the deceptions.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, you would not survive for very long as a Malfoy," Lucius drawled. "I have very few friends. The rest I consider to be my opponents in a game of deception."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "With all due respect, sir, I would like to receive compliments without having to wonder of a motive."

"To each her own," Lucius commented. He handed her a glass of wine that a house elf appeared with. "I would mind my drink if I were you, Miss Weasley. Wouldn't want the ever possessive Alexis Corter to see you admiring her date."

"Who?" asked Ginny, sipping at the sweet white wine.

"Alexis Corter," Lucius said, pointing out the thin woman on Axel's arm. "If I remember correctly from her stint as my son's paramour, she can get quite obsessive over her lovers."

Ginny did not want to think about the fact that Axel Gerber and Draco Malfoy had slept with the same woman. It said nothing for the former's tastes. "She has nothing to worry about."

"I will have to tell Narcissa that apparently the buxom barmaid look does enchant certain men," Lucius said. Before she could question him, he smirked and said, "Excuse me for just a moment."

"Ginevra, I did not expect you here."

Ginny turned her gaze from the disappearing and uncharacteristically chatty Lucius to Axel Gerber. "I don't believe I was expected here."

"Until tomorrow," Axel said. "I have a meeting with your boss."

"Yes, I will be present for that," Ginny said. She tried not to blush under his gaze. "At eleven."

"If I remember correctly, I had asked you to lunch in New York," Axel said. "I would like the chance to complete that offer."

"I'm not sure that would be entirely appropriate," Ginny said, wincing at the lameness of her excuse. "What with business and all."

"Perhaps some coffee then," Axel said. "There is a very nice coffee shop down the street from my office."

"I'm more of a tea drinker," Ginny said.

"Lunch then," Axel said persistently.

"You won't give up, will you?" asked Ginny with a sigh.

"I don't think so," he said, smiling.

"Fine, coffee then," Ginny said. "And only if I can spare the time. We have a packed schedule."

"Of course," he said. He gave her a small bow. "I must make my greetings to the host."

"And your date," Ginny said.

"Lexie is not so assuming as to think that she is anything but company for a tedious event," he said plainly. "She and I have been platonic friends for many years."

"I'm sure," Ginny said brightly, his nonchalance grating her. "Excuse me for a moment. I need to go see Mr. Malfoy."

"I will see you tomorrow, Ginevra," Axel called.

"Sure," Ginny said.

She needed to put space between her and the ever-charming Minister Gerber. She ducked out of a set of open terrace doors, breathing in the cool April Hamburg air. She had no feelings for him. But she had to admit he was handsome, charming, and an adept kisser. His proximity didn't make her dizzy with want or need, but it certainly reminded her that there was such a thing as a casual fling. But the idea of shagging the unrelenting Minister Gerber made her squirm—not in a desirable way either. There was too much going on between him and Malfoy International. She just could not bring herself to sleeping with him, especially if it meant she would find out sensitive information about the company. She dreaded the idea of sitting in Lucius Malfoy's office and explaining how she had come across any information.

"Should I bring out a box of tissues?"

Ginny was beginning to think that she had misjudged Lucius Malfoy's personality for years. He had a sense of humor, and if she wasn't so worked up about Axel Gerber, she might have even laughed. The thought was just another terrifying one to add into the jumble of her mind.

"The Minister would like to have coffee with me tomorrow," Ginny said, knowing it was information he would like to have.

"I see," Lucius said.

"I told him as long as my schedule allows it," Ginny continued.

"Am I to believe we are past the stage of you thinking I would like you to shag people for information, Miss Weasley?" She twitched. "Even I am not so scandalous as to require such behavior from my assistants. Although, I am quite aware of your, shall we say, colorful history."

Ginny blushed. She had not been a stranger to casual flings, especially not after her days of trying to catch Harry Potter's attention by snogging every eligible, good-looking bachelor at Hogwarts. When her relationship with Harry had not worked out, she had orchestrated reunions with Seamus, Dean, and Neville, though long before he had the good sense to start dating Luna—those two were well-suited in bed and she was in a position to know. Draco had no idea how correct he was earlier. No, she was not the least bit a virgin saint, and it seemed Lucius Malfoy had done his research.

"Yes, Miss Weasley, I do an extensive background check on each employee that I work with closely," Lucius said. She saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye. "Yours was rather interesting."

She cleared her throat. "About Minister Gerber…"

"I will make sure our schedule is free for your lunch." Lucius checked his watch. "I have accomplished all I need to, and I think now would be a good time for you to be feeling sick from your long distance Portkey travel."

Ginny had never heard sweeter words.

"My head is pounding something awful," Ginny lied.

"Do try not to grin when you say that," Lucius said, leading her inside. "You are a terrible liar, Miss Weasley. It will be your downfall."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said, feigning a pained expression.

"Pain, Miss Weasley, not constipation."

For the next few minutes before they left the party, Ginny tried not to burst into laughter at the sound of constipation falling from Lucius Malfoy's lips. It was hard to see him as a former Death Eater when he spoke in scatological terms. But she suppressed her laughter and felt blissfully free when they pulled up to the hotel twenty minutes later. She had enough of the Malfoy men for one day—men in general actually. There was nothing Ginny Weasley wanted more than a smoke, a drink, and a nice warm bubble bath—in that order.


	13. In A Fish Tank

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or Harry Potter related mentions in this story. Those all belong to JK Rowling - if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be here. Just saying.

Happy Holidays!

* * *

"Black suit. No, too plain."

"Blue suit. No, he's seen me in that."

"Gray suit. Isn't that a bit dreary?"

"Pink dress. Looks horrible."

"Bloody hell, shut up." Ginny threw down the dress she had retrieved from her closet. "Pull yourself together Ginny Weasley."

"Is Ms. Weasley needing something?"

"A smoke and something to wear?" Ginny glanced at the house elf before dropping her head into her hands. "It should not be this difficult. Why do I care what I look like?"

The house elf's only response was to hand her a lit cigarette. "Ms. Weasley?"

"Oh, thank you," Ginny said. She took a quick drag, sighing as she glanced at the smoke that spiraled from the tip. "I should really kick this terrible habit I've developed."

"Did Mindy do a bad thing?" asked the house elf, turning her ears down.

"No, not you, Mindy. Not you," Ginny said, taking another drag. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about fashion, would you? A silly thought I suppose."

"Oh, Mindy knows much. Mindy sees ladies wearing clothes all the time." Mindy snapped her fingers, levitating a dress out of the closet. "Ms. Weasley look nice in this."

Ginny exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about shoes?"

That is how Ginny ended up entering breakfast in a simple black dress that seemed tailored to her body with leopard print pumps and her hair in voluminous curls. Mindy had also seen fit to pick out a pair of sunglasses, "It be very chic, Ms. Weasley." The house elf had even done her hair and made a promise to pick out some evening dress options for Ginny. All in all, Ginny rated the customer service to be top notch—that and Mindy's fashion skills. It seemed that she had garnered the attention of more than one person as she sat down with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius peeked over his paper. "Perhaps I should make sure you have the incentive of a date with attractive men at all our meetings."

"Sir?" she smiled at him innocently.

"You have not been virtuous since I saw the list of people, who have warmed your bed," Lucius drawled. He went back to reading his paper. "Though, the innocence works much better than constipation."

"Thank you," Ginny said for lack of anything better to say. She opened her purse and pulled out a thick envelope. "This came to me this morning, but it's addressed to you."

"I thought it best not to receive any mail while being watched," Lucius said. He glanced behind her. "I will retrieve that from you at some point later."

"Okay," Ginny said slowly, tucking it back. A waitress set a cup of tea down for her with a bowl of fruit and a side of oatmeal. "Oh, I didn't order yet."

"You seem to get the same thing every time," Lucius said. He sipped his tea, dismissing the waitress with a slight shooing motion. "Not an adventurous bone in your body."

Ginny didn't respond. Over her week of being stuck traveling with the elder Malfoy, she had come to realize that there was so much more to him than the menacing Malfoy persona she had come to associate with him. With that realization came the unfamiliar feeling of not knowing how to respond to his offensive remarks when they were cushioned by humor.

She also found it increasingly difficult to keep professional persona as the days moved along, especially after she found out how much Lucius knew about her. Her promiscuity and explorations behind closed doors was not something that often bled into her public life. She had always believed that what happened behind closed doors was best left there, especially behind her doors.

"Should we go over the schedule for today?" Ginny asked, resorting to business.

"After our meeting with the Minister, I will be seeing to some personal matters," Lucius said. He glanced down at his paper. "Set up separate transportation for the two of us. I would rather that you don't depend on the geniality of the young Minister to get you back to the hotel on time."

Ginny nodded. "Of course."

"Proper arrangements have been made for tomorrow afternoon's transportation?" Lucius asked, briefly staring at her over his paper.

"Yes, sir," Ginny said.

"I took the liberty of having a Portkey arranged to my son's flat for you. It should be waiting for you at your home," Lucius said. He smirked when she scowled. "And did you check my Portkey?"

"You will return Sunday morning to Malfoy Manor," Ginny said. "The Portkey will be ready to depart from your room."

"Excellent," Lucius said. He sipped his tea and folded the newspaper. "I want to briefly go over some things that I intend to speak with the Minister about."

"Okay," Ginny said, preparing to take notes.

Lucius reached over and closed her journal. "In my rooms."

Forlornly looking at her breakfast, Ginny stood and followed Lucius back towards the lifts. Her mother always said that if you didn't start your day with breakfast—or at the very least tea, it wouldn't be a very good day. Ginny fervently hoped her mother was wrong.

* * *

The meeting with Axel Gerber turned out to be ridiculously boring and stiff. Lucius and Axel engaged in small talk about the minister's family vineyard, a conversation that lasted twenty minutes too long. A tedious discussion about vintage wines followed soon after, another waste of twenty minutes in Ginny's opinion. Finally, after forty minutes of nothing, Lucius and Axel engaged in a ten-minute conversation about Malfoy International, which proved to be polite, stilted, and completely uninformative.

By the end of the meeting, Ginny had counted the amount of quills the Minister had in his office as well as the number of photographs he had of himself—just him—across the walls—twenty-two. Either Axel Gerber needed a consistent reminder of what he looked like or he was vain enough to believe that people wanted to see that many pictures of him – in his own office no less.

"It has been a pleasure, Minister." Lucius nodded to Axel, who stood behind his desk as if posing for a photograph. "Hopefully I will see you at your uncle's vineyard someday."

"Likewise," Axel replied. He cleared his throat. "I will look into the Malfoy raids. I was not aware they were happening."

Ginny scoffed inside her head.

"Of course," Lucius said smirking. He turned to Ginny and looked at his watch. "I will see you this evening at dinner."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said. She snapped her journal close and stood from her seat.

"Good day," Lucius said, exiting the room.

With that, Ginny was left alone in the Minister's office. It didn't help that Axel strode over to the office door and closed it behind Lucius, the click of the door reverberating across the room.

"Alone at last," Axel said with a smile. "We have a few minutes to chat before lunch. I made reservations."

"Reservations seem a little much for lunch, don't you think?" Ginny asked, busying herself with packing her journal in her handbag. "And I thought we were only doing coffee?"

"Everyone has to eat," Axel said. He took off his jacket and slung it across the chair Lucius had occupied. "And I make reservations everywhere I go. Ministry protocol."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "That seems an awful hassle. Making reservations to get a cup of tea?"

"Sacrifices you make when you run a country," Axel said with a shrug.

It was in that moment that Ginny realized just how close he was to her. She stepped back and nonchalantly attempted small talk. "And when did you decide to run a country?"

"I don't know that I ever decided," Axel said. He picked up a rounded figurine from his desk, idly toying with it. "I suppose I just felt there was something wrong, and I needed to fix it."

"Have you?" asked Ginny, genuinely curious.

"I think so," Axel said. He shrugged. "I think I've lost the ability to tell."

"Well, perhaps you should ask someone," Ginny said.

"Perhaps over some lunch," Axel said with a charming smile.

* * *

Lunch was a bit of an understatement. They were dining in a private room, just the two of them and Axel's closest companions—his six-person security team. If that alone wasn't awkward, they were seated at a table with candlelight, roses, and flower petals scattered across the ground. Suffice it to say, Ginny pushed her chair back from the table as much as she could while still being able to eat.

Halfway through lunch and after some extremely awkward small talk about family, Axel cleared his throat. "So you told me to ask someone?"

Ginny paused, spearing a piece of shrimp on her fork. "Ask someone what?"

"If what I was doing was fixing the wrongs," Axel said. He leaned forward. "Am I fixing the wrongdoings?"

"I'm not sure I should be the person you're asking," Ginny said, cocking her head to the side. "I'm not as up to date on German politics as some of your advisors would be."

"My advisors do more agreeing than they do advising," Axel said with a small smile. "They look at me as if I have the answers to the failing country."

"Is it still failing?" asked Ginny.

"My country? In some ways," Axel said with a shrug. "Our economy isn't as great as Britain's at the moment."

"Perhaps wasting money on continuing to protect a country from dark wizards that don't exist anymore might be your problem," Ginny said. "It was something we dealt with in Britain a few years ago."

"Which perplexes me," Axel said.

"Why? Because we've moved on?" Ginny looked at him, putting her fork down.

"I've read about the Weasleys, about the fighting in the war—how can you be a part of a world where the people you fought against roam freely?" asked Axel.

Ginny removed her napkin from her lap and placed it on her nearly full plate, her appetite gone. "I don't judge other countries for not coming to our aid—the war was brutal and would have bled into your countries. But if you weren't there to help, you don't have the right to question what our country does in the aftermath and cast judgment upon us."

"I didn't mean—"

"But you did," Ginny said with a shake of her head. "Minister Gerber, you are as close minded as the people we fought against. Instead of blood purity though, you see good and evil. But during the war, I learned that good and evil aren't black and white. There are varying shades of gray as clichéd as that sounds. How do you mark someone as evil if they've done something out of a misguided or perhaps correct belief that it would protect their family? Under the threat of torture and death, Minister Gerber, what would you do protect the ones you love?"

"I would not bow to the feet of a madman," Axel said stiffly. "Is this what you tell yourself so that you can work with the Malfoys? They did dark things during the war, I've read about it."

Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "Read it? I lived it. I was a part of that war. I was touched by unimaginable evil, and I survived it. You talk about moving on in all of those glorious speeches you give, and you talk about making your country better."

"Which is why we cannot let people like the Malfoys get a hold of our country," Axel said. "You must see that."

"No, I see a man who hasn't had the experience needed to make a statement like that one," Ginny said. She looked around the room and shook her head. "I work with the Malfoys, not because of some misguided belief that they are good people, but because in the end, when Voldemort lost, our world was in tatters. There are many people like you left, who would rather spit on the ground the Malfoys walk on than be in the same room—"

"I do not feel that way," Axel interrupted.

"An overstatement on my part, I apologize," Ginny said insincerely. "But at the end of the day, Voldemort is dead. He's gone. We can either choose to keep the hatred that perpetuated through war times, or we can move on and learn to live in a more peaceful time. I chose the latter. It wasn't easy, but it's done."

And Ginny realized it _was_ done. After so many years of fighting and hate—of pain and sadness, it was easier to let it all go now than keep harboring it. They spent so many years living in miserable circumstances, and she didn't want to sit and be made to feel guilty because she didn't hate the Malfoys—not for their role in the war in any case. All of that was a part of the past, and if she had any intention of being happy, she couldn't let her past dictate her future.

"Excuse me," Ginny said, looking at her full plate. "I think I've lost my appetite."

"Ginevra—"

Ginny turned and looked at him sadly. "There is no world where something between us would have ever worked."

"How would you know if you never tried?" asked Axel.

"You came years too late," Ginny said frankly. "I don't see in the same shades of black and white that you do. I see all the shades in between—and I need to go before I spout more horrible clichés."

Ginny maneuvered around the bulky escorts of the Minister and exited the private room. She was greeted by a crowd of curious faces in the restaurant, who had seen her retreat into the private room with the Minister. To further add to her embarrassment, there was a sea of reporters waiting outside as well. She covered her face with the sunglasses—thankful Mindy had given them to her.

"Are you the Minister's new _companion_?"

Ginny wanted to scoff at the use of the word 'companion,' which was loaded with innuendo by the reporter's tone.

"Where are you from?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Are you dating the Minister?"

The driver Lucius had assigned to her, opened the car door and let her slide in, pushing the reporters back with his large frame. She had to add Lucius to the list of people to thank. If it hadn't been for him, she would have been walking around trying to figure out how to get back to her hotel.

"Miss? Where to now?" The driver slid into his seat.

"The hotel, please," Ginny said, turning her head away as an invasive reporter pressed against the window. "Or anywhere but here."

* * *

At seven on the dot, Ginny joined Lucius in the lavish lobby of the hotel. He hadn't said where they were going, nor if it was a work function, which made it slightly difficult to dress for. The only thing he had told her was that formal cocktail attire would do. But as she exited the lifts, she couldn't help but to think that Lucius had been vague about more than what to wear.

"I knew that dress would suit you." Narcissa Malfoy stood regal in a dress that Ginny knew would look ridiculous if she had worn it –considering her "buxom barmaid" build. The long-sleeved ice-blue dress hugged Narcissa's figure, ending in a ruffled hem just above her knees. "Though I don't recognize the shoes."

Ginny looked down at her own outfit, a strapless gold tea-length dress that shimmered when she walked. Mindy had chosen it and the shoes—strappy gold sandals with a heel that terrified Ginny. But Mindy had insisted and Ginny found that the house elf was persistent.

"I picked them up earlier today," Ginny lied. In fact, Mindy had chosen them since Ginny didn't have any evening shoes to match.

"Showing off that cleavage of yours, eh Weasley?"

Ginny tried not to blush but couldn't help it. "Malfoy, crass as always."

"Draco, do try and remember your manners," Narcissa scolded.

Ginny turned and looked at Draco, wishing on all things good that he would, for once, look ridiculous and frumpy. Instead, he looked dashing and handsome in a fitted—custom tailored no doubt—navy tuxedo with black lapels. She wanted to make some sort of snarky comment about his looks, but there wasn't a thing to pick on. Not unless she wanted to tell him he looked _too_ good, and somehow she didn't think that would be seen as offensive.

"Where is Father? Just like him to keep everyone waiting." Draco stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, eyeing Ginny. "Weasley, you ought to have a license for those."

"If this is how you plan on behaving all evening, Draco Malfoy, I will send you to your room without a dinner or drinks," Narcissa said. She looked around the lobby. "They're breasts. It's not like you've not seen, touched, and done other unmentionable things that a mother could do without hearing, especially at dinner, to some before."

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. But just the thought of Draco sitting in the formal dining room at Malfoy Manor while regaling his mother with tales of his sexual escapades—Ginny couldn't help the grin on her face

"Mother, I thought you loved those stories," Draco said, smirking. "Besides, Weasley here does have a very nice set—even if she is a Weasley."

"Enough," Narcissa said. "She is also a lady, and I know I've taught you better manners."

"What have you done to offend your mother?" Lucius Malfoy appeared from outside, wearing a suit similar to Draco's only in gray. "She has that look."

"Distasteful things were said. It's best we not bring it up," Narcissa said.

"Something to offend, Miss Weasley, I'm assuming." Lucius motioned to Ginny's hand, which was clutched tightly around her wand. "I think we can pocket the wand now. I'd rather my son stay alive for the night."

"I'd rather not make any promises," muttered Ginny, tucking her wand away in the over-sized envelope clutch Mindy had given her.

"A little sass, I like it," Narcissa said approvingly. "Now, I believe we have some event or another to attend. I'm assuming it's important since you've pulled me away from a lovely weekend in Rome."

"Miss Weasley's doing actually," Lucius said. "She made quite an impression on the German Minister."

Ginny's face flamed red. "What?"

"Yes, he's invited us to his fundraising event for his campaign this evening. It's the first time I've been invited so I'm assuming it is your doing." Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Had a good date?"

"A date? Oh Weasley, I need to teach you the tricks of the trade. After you've had a shag, you don't go back and date them," Draco said, smirking. "You're supposed to—"

"Draco Malfoy!" Narcissa said, smacking her son's arm. "Enough."

"I'm just—"

"Draco," Lucius growled.

Ginny watched the family interaction in fascination. She had never seen the entire family together before and frankly it was amusing—enough that she almost didn't mind that she was apparently going to be stuck in a room with the ever-persistent Minister Gerber.

"Alright, I will be on my best behavior," Draco said with a smirk that said otherwise.

"See that you actually follow through on that," Narcissa said. She wrapped an arm through Lucius's. "Shall we?"

Ginny didn't have a choice but to follow behind as they moved towards the Portkey lobby of the hotel. An attendant was waiting with a slim rod for them to hold onto, and before Ginny could process the fact that she was going to be confronted with Axel Gerber for the second time that day, they were already landing in the lobby of what looked to be an enormous flat overlooking a city skyline.

"Stop gawking Weasley," Draco drawled quietly. "I've seen larger."

Ginny mock winced. "You really ought to watch what you're saying. Think of all the ways that can be interpreted."

"Oh Weasley, you're definitely one of the largest I've seen," his eyes falling to the top of her dress.

"Draco," Lucius said, interrupting the hushed conversation. "If I'm not mistaken by Miss Weasley's paleness—"

"Which is a terrible hue for you," Narcissa added.

"Her date did not end well with the Minister. So perhaps it would be in our best interest if the Minister did not get too persistent," Lucius said, giving his son a significant look.

Draco clapped his hands together. "So Weasley here is bait then? Shall I make a scene of discovering them?"

"What?" Ginny whispered furiously.

"Don't worry Weasley, all you have to do is be yourself—as long as yourself is completely uninterested in Gerber," Draco said flippantly.

"Draco, darling, find me a beverage." Narcissa eyed her son with undisguised distaste. "And make it something tasteful, not that ridiculous fruity nonsense that has become so popular amongst you young people."

"A glass of wine is rather boring, Mother. But as you wish," Draco said.

"So Ginevra, the dashing German Minister has given you his attentions and you find no interest in him." Narcissa eyed the Minister, who was chatting amiably amongst a group of men. "He's attractive."

Next to her, Lucius smirked. "What was that dear?"

"I didn't realize you were still there, Lucius. A drink?" Narcissa smiled and patted her husband's arm. "Make sure Draco brings be back something good."

"Of course, dear," Lucius said. "Try not to let your eyes wander too much, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I shan't make any promises," she said.

Ginny couldn't help it. "You two are so—"

"Not what the Prophet prints?" Narcissa smiled, not warmly but not nearly as chilling as the papers made her out to be. "If I were you Ginevra, I would wonder why my husband is so keen on letting you see us—_all _of us like this."

"I don't—"

"In any case, Mr. Gerber, is it?" Narcissa tilted her head to the side. "Powerful, undeniably masculine, and tasteful if the décor of his home is an indicator."

"Yes, well he is the Minister here, Mrs.—"

"Ah, ah," Narcissa said.

"Narcissa," Ginny finished.

"So why not climb the social ladder, Ms. Weasley? You aren't exactly in a position to deny a suitor. Single, poor family, not of a good background—"

Ginny tried not to be offended—really, she did. But her Weasley temper flared, and she could feel the red flush descending from her cheeks to her arms. It was almost as if Narcissa had lit a fire on her.

"I don't care what background you think you come from, but you clearly have no manners whatsoever," Ginny snapped. She folded her arms under her chest, quickly dropping them when she realized her breasts were threatening to come out. "I don't need to—"

"Oh relax," Narcissa said, waving off her tantrum. "You can save your sanctimonious speech, Ginevra. Keep that for the Minister when he attempts to woo you."

"I'm sorry. How does that even make sense?" asked Ginny, thoroughly confused.

"Men in power have one common flaw, Ms. Weasley. They all think that they are better, and they can wield your weaknesses against you." Narcissa eyed the Minister with a small amount of contempt. "Besides, he's a bit too pretty looking if you ask me."

Ginny thought that was surprising, considering Lucius and Draco were just as _pretty_ as the Minister.

"So when he does attempt to woo you out of that lovely dress—I do have such good taste—remember not to fall for his sweet nothings that are simply my nasty words with a prettier coating." She smiled, the frozen one that often graced the papers. "Now, smile, dear. That confused look does nothing for you."

Lucius and Draco returned, and surprisingly, Lucius handed her a flute of champagne. "I assumed you were the sort to need a calming beverage."

Ginny wanted to laugh at the ridiculous situation. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were almost—no, not almost, actually being comforting. Perhaps it wasn't the most conventional comforting, but nonetheless, it was their bizarre way of protecting Ginny. She almost wanted to hug them, but that would be improper—and frankly she would need to be drunk to do so.

"Shall we mingle?" Narcissa eyed a couple moving towards them. "Ah, the social climbers appear."

Ginny spent the rest of the night, chatting with the members of German high society. While the conversations flowed smoothly as did the champagne, she couldn't help but to feel constantly aware of Axel Gerber's presence. No matter where she moved in the room, she could sense where he was, and her body was tense with anticipation. It was clear that Lucius thought Axel would attempt to sequester her away at some point in the night, as he had cautiously warned Draco to be aware of her movements.

"Care for a smoke, Weasley?" Draco slipped his hand inside his jacket, removing a silver case. "I had to approve your cigarette expense, Weasley, so no sense in denying it."

Ginny eyed the case with slight apprehension. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Malfoy. I'm working."

Draco chuckled. "Live a little, Weasley. My parents are in their element."

And Ginny had to admit, there was something about the way the striking couple moved in the room. They switched from English to German, depending on their audience, and entertained the room with ease that Ginny could never hope to attain. This was where the Malfoys belonged.

Draco was already moving out to the balcony, a slim cigarette in his mouth and a flame already at the tip of his wand. She followed him out, shivering slightly at the change in temperature. It wasn't as cold as the outside air should be, meaning there was a warming charm in place, but it was definitely cooler.

"Thank you," Ginny said as he handed her the case. "How did you really know I smoke? The transportation department sends me the expense reports, not you."

"We've managed to remove the unhealthy parts of cigarettes that the Muggles have to deal with, but some things, we can't change." He held the cigarette between his lips, grasping her right hand. "Burnt calming draught tends to leave a mark."

Ginny quickly retracted her hand from his, looking at the slight discoloration between her fingers and ignoring the tingling that had begun at the tips of her fingers—she really needed a good shag. "I never noticed."

He shrugged. "Most people don't."

She lit the cigarette with the tip of her wand, sighing as she felt the effects almost immediately. It was a terrible habit, even if it didn't have the health risks that Muggle cigarettes posed. Addiction was still a disease that even magic couldn't cure. But in her current situation, where every day seemed to add a bit more stress, she could really use the slight tingling of calm that spread throughout her limbs.

"I'm curious to know how little Ginny Weasley picked up such a bad habit," Draco said. He looked behind her at the walled glass. "But it looks like that story may have to wait."

Ginny turned around, seeing Axel approach with two glasses of champagne in hand. "It wasn't very exciting to begin with."

"As you say, Weasley." He dropped his cigarette, stepping on it. "Shall I leave you to your lover?"

"He's not my—"

But Draco had already moved inside, leaving her on the patio with a half finished cigarette. She watched as Axel conversed with Draco before moving towards the patio. She brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling the smoke and calming essence.

"Smoking? I didn't think you were the type," Axel said, the slight German accent embedded in his speech. "Or is that an influence of—"

"My less than savory company?" Ginny walked over to the patio, tossing the unfinished cigarette over the side of the balcony. "It's not."

"Champagne?" He handed her the flute, which she gratefully accepted. "You left lunch in a rush."

"I wasn't really hungry anymore," Ginny said. She sipped the golden, bubby liquid, smiling at the sweet taste. "You are persistent though."

"I've been known not to let go so easily," he said. "I wouldn't really be a good Minister if I did."

Ginny nodded. "After the war, I learned that some things you just have to let go or they eat you up on the inside. And you, Mr. Gerber, have a lot to learn in letting go of things."

"Is it letting go? Or is it running?" He leaned against the balcony, and she watched him through her peripheral vision. "Are you running from the truth of it?"

She laughed, genuine laughter. "We could keep going like this for ages, couldn't we? We just see the world in a completely different view."

"I don't think we're so dissimilar," he said.

Ginny looked out onto the city. She had to admit, wealth afforded you a very good view in this part of the world. She could see the old buildings and castle-like structures mixed with Muggle highways, cars reminiscent of streaks of light dashing across the roads. It was a bizarre mix of old and new, much like the new generation of witches and wizards.

"Axel, if you don't mind me being frank—"

"Please," he said, crossing over to where she stood.

"You can have any woman in that room, even the married ones I'm sure," Ginny said, looking into the room filled with dazzling women in designer wear. "Yet, you're on a balcony, attempting to convince me to what? Date you? Sleep with you? I'm not sure."

"Every man, even a Minister, gets tired of having all the things that they can have," he said.

Ginny smiled, shaking her head. "So it's a game?"

"No," he said, frowning. "It's simply that I wish to have someone who doesn't fawn over me, and you don't seem to be the type of woman to do that."

"I don't enjoy these affairs, Axel," she said, waving towards the party. "Opulence has never been appealing to me. But this is your life."

"Yet here you are," he said. "Perhaps you're simply not accustomed to it as of yet. This is all new to you, is it not? I can imagine that you would feel uncomfortable in these surroundings, understandably so. I was not always comfortable in these surroundings. I can dismiss them and end the party. I'd rather spend more time with you than a room full of people that only want a picture."

There it was, cushioned as it was by his 'concern,' Ginny could weed out the underlying message of aristocracy in his statement. While trying to make her comfortable came at the tail end of his statement, everything prior to that had been a slight against her background. She didn't grow up in a home that would make her 'accustomed' to the glamor of his lifestyle. But perhaps she could become accustomed it if she gave everything up to visit him and attend parties with him.

"Yes, maybe you should," Ginny said, seeing a flicker of surprise on his face. "Then I would no doubt be able to leave as well."

"I don't understand why you won't even consider it," Axel said.

"And I can't understand why you insist on it," Ginny said, sighing. "Persistence can get tiring."

"You are a beautiful woman, Ginny. Everything about you is beautiful, and I would like to take you on a date," Axel said.

Ginny laughed, the sound flat to her ears. "You've been in my presence for maybe a few hours, total. I'm not worth all of this trouble. I suggest you go shag someone and get it out of your system. It will do you wonders."

"I won't stop. I'll send you flowers, gifts, and perhaps arrange a trip to London to visit you," Axel said. "I am persistent."

"Your mistake is thinking that I can be bought with material things," Ginny said, placing her empty champagne flute on the patio table.

"It seems the Malfoys may have done that," Axel said. "I have it on good note that this is not who you were before."

Ginny felt heat flush through her body—and not in a good way. "Excuse me, Minister Gerber. I believe we've said all we need to say to one another."

She turned to leave, and her grabbed her arm. "Wait."

Just then, the door to the patio opened, and none other than Draco Malfoy stood there, his face expressionless. Ginny didn't think she had ever been so thankful to see a Malfoy in her life.

"I suggest you unhand my employee, Minister Gerber. I would hate to think the esteemed German Minister was holding a woman against her will," Draco drawled, louder than completely necessary.

His words had the effect needed on the close by press as she saw a few turn to take in the tableau that they presented. One cameraman, who had been taking pictures of the delectable dishes that Ginny would never get a chance to try, turned to them, his eyes alight. Knowing what would happen next, Ginny ducked her head, wrenching her arm from Axel's grasp just in time for the reporter to snap a picture.

"Come on Ms. Weasley, we should really be going," Draco said, professionally. "I don't trust to leave you here alone."

"Played that one up a bit, didn't you?" Ginny muttered, ignoring his proffered arm.

Draco placed an arm on her bare back, almost in a shielding manner, as the press started to gather at the door. "I do have a flare for the dramatics I've been told."

They moved through the room, approaching the elder Malfoys, who turned away from their conversation to stare at the pair. No words needed to be said as Lucius looked behind them and saw a few reporters watching their interaction. He turned to the couple they had been entertaining, hurriedly saying some words in German before turning back to them.

"Miss Weasley, shall we leave? I'd rather not keep you anywhere you may be uncomfortable or exposed to unwanted advances," Lucius said, offering Narcissa his arm. "Darling."

Narcissa smiled politely, steely eyes staring at the reporters behind them. "Of course."

Ginny didn't look back as they left, imagining Axel stuck on a balcony, his movements observed through a glass window. She was sure that any thoughts or designs Minister Gerber had on her were now well and truly dead. After all, she had just created what was probably one of the first ever scandals he was associated with. She felt awful, but admittedly, a small part of her was glad for it. And she couldn't help but to feel terrified that this was the person she had become.


	14. First Time Experiences

Everything was white. The floors, ceiling, walls, and tables – all white with the occasional glimmer of silver and gold. Her shock of red hair stood out against the backdrop of the decor in the Zabini Ballroom, and she clenched her champagne glass to avoid letting out a sigh at being at _another_ ridiculous event. Not to mention, she was escorting none other than Draco Malfoy, which was ridiculous in an entirely different way.

She felt like a bottle of Felix Felicis in her gold gown, the long sleeves and high neckline giving her some semblance of comfort; despite the dress dipping dangerously low in the back and leaving her feeling quite exposed. Ginny supposed it was better than having her front exposed for the entire world to see. Though she wished on all things magical that Draco Malfoy would stop escorting her by placing his hand on her lower back and leading her through the room. It was far more Malfoy on skin action than she wanted.

"Draco Malfoy!"

Ginny was abruptly stopped in her tracks as they moved towards the table by the sound of a feminine call. The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties, though Ginny didn't doubt her guess was incorrect. Her chestnut skin did not seem like it would age over time, and she positively glowed as she crossed the floor in her mauve gown.

"I have not seen you in ages," she said, drawing him into a soft embrace. "Not since that time Blaise and you were in trouble with the French Ministry for—what was it that time?"

Draco smirked. "Pretending to be the ghost of King Louis XVI and scaring the Muggles?"

"Yes, that's it," she said, shaking her head. "You two were lucky that I was there to smooth those ruffled feathers. England would have had an international incident on their hands."

"All in fun," he said with a shrug. He stepped to the side and motioned to Ginny. "Marie Duchamp, meet Ginevra Weasley. She is my father's assistant on loan for the evening."

"Babysitter more like," Maria said. She smiled warmly at Ginny. "Ginevra, it's a pleasure to meet you. You look like you can resist the charms of Draco more than the previous girls."

Ginny coughed, not prepared for that response. "Thank you?"

"Marie is Blaise Zabini's aunt from France, Bourdeaux to be specific. Her vineyards produce the best wine in the region," Draco said.

"Flatterer. I'll be sure to send a case of the aged merlot that you like to entertain those _women _with," she said with a sniff of distaste. "What you see in them, I do not know."

"Open legs, Aunt Marie," said a voice from behind Ginny.

It had been a year since she had last seen Blaise Zabini. Magnolia was hired to help the Zabinis sell their estate in Belize, and he had stopped by to sign paperwork. At the time, he had been wearing robes, and Ginny didn't really get a chance to look at him. Tonight, his impeccably tailored light gray suit made him look mouth watering, and she wondered how in the world the Slytherin house had turned out such beautiful men.

"Little Weasley, my have you grown up," he said, raking his eyes down her body in a way that shouldn't have made her feel flushed. "I thought there might be something underneath the frumpy clothes I saw in Magnolia's offices."

Ginny clamped her hand around her glass. "And I thought there might be some manners under that lovely suit, but I see I was wrong."

"And still a spitfire," he said jovially. "We must catch up."

Marie slapped his arm, even as she pulled him in for a hug. "Mind your manners in front of a lady."

"We're old friends, Aunty," Blaise said, swinging an arm around Ginny, her curls ruffling under his suit. "Right, Weasley?"

"I would have sooner cursed you than converse with you, Zabini," Ginny said, trying her best not to cause a scene by shaking off his arm.

"Blaise, be a dear and unhand Father's assistant. Your mother would hate for you to sully her polished marble floors with blood stains," Draco drawled, an open grin on his face. "As much as I would love to see it."

"Love requires something beating in here," Blaise said, removing his arm to tap Draco's chest. "I think you're missing it."

Marie sighed and turned to Ginny. "I'm sorry that you're stuck with these boys. You would think their upbringing afforded them some semblance of propriety."

"I went to school with them. I knew what I was getting myself into," Ginny said, smiling.

Marie laughed and patted her arm. "You'll do well here."

"So people tell me," Ginny said as Blaise and Draco continued to squabble.

"Boys, if you would be so kind as to stop the horse playing at my event, I'll be so kind as to not turn my wand on the both of you."

"Carmen, it's lovely to see you," Marie greeted politely.

"You as well, Marie." Honey colored eyes fell on Ginny, and she realized that Blaise's coloring had to come from his father's side of the family. The woman in front of her was as pale as Draco. "And you are…"

Draco stepped next to her. "Ginevra Weasley, my guest for the evening."

"Of course, Draco," Carmen said, tossing her silky brown hair over her shoulder. "And where is Lord Malfoy this evening? I was _so_ looking forward to speaking with him."

"He and my mother had a pressing engagement," Draco said.

Ginny noticed the way Carmen's hand clenched the skirt of her vivid blue gown. "Of course. Give Lord Malfoy and Narcissa my regards."

"I'll be sure to tell Lady Malfoy you said hello," Draco said with a smirk.

She nodded, her smile polite, and turned to greet her other guests.

"Why must you rile up Mother so?" Blaise was smiling even as he spoke. "You do know she's only trying to give me my lifelong wish of making us brothers."

"Again, I pity you for your company, Ginevra. It was lovely to meet you, but I must find some more adults to greet," Marie said before disappearing in the crowd with a tinkling laugh.

Blaise looked at his watch and gazed around the room. "I think we've done our part here. Ready to nip out?"

Ginny scowled. "We are here to work, Zabini."

"Come now, Weasley, surely you don't want to sit around here and watch the old codgers leer at your delectable back," Blaise said, pointedly gazing at something behind her.

Ginny shuddered at the thought of what she might see when she turned around, so she didn't. Instead, she tried to give Draco her sternest, Molly Weasley expression. "Malfoy?"

"Weasley?" Draco mocked. He took a sip of his champagne. "We'll work. Promise."

"And how will you work?" snapped Ginny.

"Oh, you know, looking into a new venture for Malfoy International," Draco said, winking at Blaise.

"Ah, yes, the nightclub. I knew you were up to tricks," Blaise said, wagging his finger at Draco. "We have no desire to merge."

"With the proper funding, you could open a second one in Hogsmeade," Draco said, handing his empty glass to the passing server. "It would appeal to the sixth and seventh years, who now get free roam of Hogsmeade in the evenings."

"You are a snake charmer, Malfoy," Blaise said. He eyed Ginny with a smirk. "Get Weasley to come to the club tonight, and we can have a more formal discussion in your office on Monday."

Ginny crossed her arms. "I'm not going to a club."

"Have you ever been?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I would know if she had," Blaise said.

"Father would be very disappointed if you made us miss an opportunity we've been chasing for a year," Draco said. He cocked his head to the side. "Now, where would hire you after you land on a blacklist from Lucius Malfoy?"

"That's blackmail," Ginny spluttered.

"We're Slytherins, love. It's just conversation to us." Blaise grasped her shoulders and steered her towards the door. "Now don't be a Granger. Find that Weasley spirit that you were so famous for in school."

"I don't—"

"You know, the one every boy wanted and you were so willing to give up," Blaise said as they reached into the hallway.

Ginny spun and shoved him away from her, wand in hand before Blaise could even process. "I'm sorry, but that sounded oddly like a slight against my virtue."

"Don't poke a sleeping Weasley, Zabini. You'll only sneeze bats for days," Draco said, not bothering to stop as he walked down the hallway. "Now, when you kids are done playing, there is some fun to be had."

Blaise held his hands up, palm side facing Ginny. "No offense meant, love. Though, if you care so much about the knowledge the public has of your bedroom, try not to invite McLaggen back into your bed. He has the unfortunate habit of kissing and telling and even not kissing but still telling."

There was no rebuttal other than admitting he was right. Ginny knew what a cad McLaggen could be, but her body hadn't cared what her brain said. She had that problem often it seemed.

"So how was he?"

Ginny sheathed her wand and turned away. "I'm not Cormac. I don't talk about what happens in private."

"Admirable," Blaise said. He held his arm out and bowed his head forward. "My lady."

Ginny looked at his arm, wondering what parallel universe she existed in now. "Only because I haven't a clue where that pasty—"

"I can still hear you," Draco said, though she didn't see him.

"You know, I think I'll have you talking by the end of the night," Blaise said, leading her through the halls of his childhood home. "You've never been to the nightclub, which means you have no idea what you're in for."

Ginny sighed. "Now you see my dilemma."

The nightclub was – well loud was an understatement. Ginny felt sensory overload upon entering the room. Seductive music bounced off the walls, and a sunken dance floor about three quarters the size of a Quidditch pitch was covered in people. The smell was a culmination of alcohol, perfumes, sweat, and the light smoke that seemed to hover and swirl with cacophonous lights above them.

"Special charm," Blaise said from beside her. "The smoke is touched with a hint of calming draught and the effects of a violent thunderstorm."

"Incredible," Ginny muttered. She looked across the room. "But you're drugging the masses."

"They know what they're getting when they come here." Blaise shrugged and nodded to the large man standing guard at the entrance. "It helps to keep the peace, and people have a lot more fun."

"It's forcible—"

"Weasley, stay or go. But the guards let everyone know before they come in here," Draco drawled, unbuttoning his jacket. "Now, what will you be drinking tonight?"

"Oh, I have something in mind for her," Blaise said with a wink. "It's a favorite of the ladies."

Ginny shook her head, lifting the hem of her dress and walking to the bar that surrounded the outer edges of the entire room. Unfortunately, the bartender on her side did not give her a second look. He was caught up flirting with a busty brunette.

"You would think with what we pay him, he'd be able to pay attention to more than a pair of tits," Blaise said from behind her.

"Staffing is something we could probably help you with," Draco said smugly.

Blaise, in a move that made Ginny raise both eyebrows, hopped over the bar, causing a few of the people at the bar to cheer. It caught the attention of the bartender, who seemed both shocked and embarrassed to see his boss serving drinks behind the bar.

"Shots on the house," Blaise yelled.

The bar cheered, and Draco chuckled. He reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of something and two glasses. "Come on Weasley. Blaise will find us when he's ready."

Ginny had very little choice but to follow Draco. She couldn't see past the rush of people swarming to the bar in hopes of a free shot. At one point, Draco had to grasp her arm and drag her through a throng of people that appeared. For a brief moment, the thought swam into her head that there needed to be more calming draught in that smoke.

Two burly men cleared a few people from a booth and motioned to Draco.

"Thanks, boys." A few galleons were given to them, and they dispersed.

"Is there anywhere that you aren't treated like a privileged a—"

"Ah, ah," Draco said before uncorking the bottle with his teeth. It was such a un-Malfoy move that Ginny almost gaped. "I'm still your boss, Weasley."

"Then I'm not drinking," Ginny said, raising an eyebrow.

He poured the drink into the shot glass and handed it to her. "Fine, I'm not your boss. Now, cheers, Weasley."

She sniffed the drink. "Do you even know what we're drinking?"

"Drink it all at once and enjoy it." Draco raised his glass to her.

"Bottoms up," she muttered before swigging back the drink. Immediately she regretted it. "What in Merlin's name is that?"

"Tequila," Draco said, pouring himself another glass. He leaned over and poured one for her too. "The second one is always easier."

"I don't—"

"Bottoms up, remember?"

Ginny wanted to slap the smug smirk off his face. "You know, I could just go home. You said you're not my boss."

"If you wanted to go home Weasley, you would have left when we walked in," Draco said. "You're allowed to let loose and enjoy yourself."

Ginny hated to think he was right, so she swallowed back the drink. It really did go down a lot easier this time around. She actually enjoyed the taste on her tongue, the slight tang. She sat down, her gold dress casting a shimmering reflection on the low accent table in the middle of the half-circle booth.

"Starting the fun without me?" He handed Ginny a martini glass. "For the lady. A normal drink to help wash back the tequila."

"One would think you're trying to charm her, Blaise," Draco drawled, lounging back in the booth. He swallowed another shot.

"And one would think you're trying to drink away your rich boy troubles," Blaise said. He picked up Ginny's empty shot glass and poured a drink. "You don't mind if we share, do you, Weasley?"

Ginny sipped the sweet martini. "It's already halfway to your lips. I don't think I could stop you."

"You know, I don't remember you being nearly as fun, Weasley," Blaise said. He tipped the shot glass towards her. "To a _very _enticing friendship."

"Ew," Ginny wrinkled her nose. "You sounded like Cormac for a moment."

"So you'll sleep with me?" Blaise said with a grin that did funny things to her stomach.

"Even she has better taste than that," Draco said with a scoff.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Blaise said. He puffed his chest up. "I'm handsome. I'm tall. I'm dark, in more ways than one. I am excellent in bed, if I do say so myself."

Ginny snorted into her drink. "And full of yourself. No wonder you're friends with Cormac."

"Friends, rivals, same thing." Blaise crossed his ankles and slowly sipped on the tequila out of the shot glass. "Don't you play, Weasley?"

"What exactly do I play?" asked Ginny, not following his conversation.

"Oh, I'm sure you _play_ all kinds of things," Blaise said with a wink.

Ginny finished her drink in one very large gulp. "I need more of this to keep conversing with you."

"Welcome to my life," Draco said with a smirk. He raised his glass to her.

"Shut it and drink," Ginny said, slapping her purse down on the accent table more loudly than she wished. She wasn't a lightweight, but she had also never had what Draco was pouring. "Maybe I shouldn't have another one."

"Oh but you should," Blaise said. He hailed over one of the guards standing close by and stood to talk with him.

Draco pushed his full glass across the table to her. "You'll need that if you plan on keeping up with Blaise tonight."

"I'm not keeping up with _anyone_ tonight," Ginny sputtered.

"Relax, Weasley. I wasn't talking about sex, although you could surely—"

"Cut you off so you don't make a pig out of yourself? Yes, I could," Ginny said. She slammed back the shot. "Happy?"

"Weasley, I'll be much happier when those two girls over there saunter over here to keep me company."

She looked in the direction that he was looking, shaking her head as the two blondes waved at him. "Don't you find it odd that they look a bit like your mother? Blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny – need I go on?"

His response was to pour himself another shot. "Thanks for the image, Weasley."

"You know, just doing my job by helping you out," Ginny said cheerfully. "I don't think we need the press to run stories that the heir to Malfoy International is chasing after women that look like his mother."

"Now that would be scandalous," Blaise said, returning to his spot next to Ginny. "Since you mention it though, you do have that habit, Draco. What was the last girl's name? Sienna? She was identical."

The guard who Blaise had spoken to appeared with a tray full of drinks. "Sir."

"Thanks, Sawyer." Blaise took the tray and put it in the center of the table, passing a martini to Ginny and a glass of what looked to be Firewhiskey to Draco. "Thought we might want something to sip on."

Ginny was teetering on the edge of being inebriated while still retaining complete control over herself and the slight weightlessness that would send a delicious shiver through her body as she plummeted into complete inebriation. She let the drink sit, trying to make the conscious decision not to make a complete idiot out of herself.

"Oh look, Flint is here," Blaise said. He eyed his watch. "It's about the time when all the snakes start coming out of their dens."

"You do realize we aren't at Hogwarts anymore, right? You can stop referring to yourself as a snake," Ginny said, trying to wrap her head around the fact that Flint could mean Marcus Flint. She definitely needed to stay away from the alcohol.

"You're right," Blaise said. "But in this case, snake really does apply to Marcus."

Draco eyed something by the entrance. "Blaise is absolutely correct."

"Where as Draco over here is more like a dragon – so aptly named," Blaise said. He picked up Ginny's drink and handed it to her. "Ambition, generally tries to establish dominance, extremely protective."

"You're describing everyone who was in Slytherin," Ginny said, lightly sipping the drink.

"There's a difference, though. Slytherins try to achieve those things and not all are lucky enough to do so," Blaise said. "Draco doesn't need to try. It's just a part of who he is as a person."

"I think we can stop analyzing my personality now," Draco said, leaning forward.

"Touchy subject?" Ginny questioned.

"The scales of a dragon are very hard to penetrate," Blaise said cheekily.

"Well, well, who knew you liked Slytherins so much, love?"

Ginny grimaced. "Mr. Flint."

"Marcus, love. You know that by now," Marcus said.

Blaise raised an eyebrow looking between the two as Marcus took a seat next to Draco. "I think I'm missing the connection."

"I used to work for his aunt," Ginny quickly said. She could feel rather than see Draco's gaze on her. "Magnolia."

"I guess we get to have our drink together after all," Marcus said, lifting his glass.

Ginny put her glass down. "Actually, I think I'll be going. So doesn't look like it after all."

"We were just getting to the good stuff," Blaise said with a frown.

"I'll escort you home, Weasley. You've had a lot to drink," Draco drawled, standing.

He and Blaise exchanged looks, and something must have been acknowledged because Blaise cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. Ginny didn't want to ponder on that interaction too much, busying herself with grabbing her things.

"Marcus, you'll have to excuse me. I did have a few things that I needed to chat with Draco about." Blaise stood and held out his hand to Ginny. "Here, I'll walk you to the door."

Ginny didn't bother to protest. As soon as she stood, she felt the inevitable happen. After sitting for so long, the effects of the alcohol rushed to her brain, and her limbs began to feel pleasantly light. She gripped Blaise's hand a little stronger than he expected, if the slight dip in his arm was anything to go by. Perhaps she shouldn't have had that much to drink in such a short span of time.

"I'm sad to see you go," Marcus said, his focus on Ginny. "Perhaps some other time, Ginny?"

"Rather not, but thanks," Ginny said frankly, her tongue loosened.

Blaise chuckled next to her, helping her out of the booth. "Marcus, Sawyer here will make sure your first few drinks are on me. Forgive us for our hasty exit."

The walk through the crowded club was interesting. A burly man, not the sandy-haired Sawyer who stayed behind at the booth as a few women swarmed to the empty seats they vacated, guided them through the club. He was very good at parting the crowd, creating a path so the trio could safely be escorted out. The chill of the night air helped to clear away some of the fogginess that had settled in her head.

"Night cap at my place?" Blaise asked Draco.

"I don't—" Ginny began to say.

"Relax, Weasley. You don't have to drink anymore if you don't want to," Blaise said, his hand still on her arm to hold her steady. "Something tells me you don't usually drink strong alcohol."

Draco laughed, which made Ginny's eyes snap to him. "I think that's an understatement."

"Not funny," Ginny said with a pout. It was all she could muster.

"Sir, do you need help?" one of the guards sitting on a chair outside the club questioned the group.

"Actually, Vic, can you side-along with Ms. Weasley to my flat in Hogsmeade?" Blaise guided her over to the man. "I don't like to Apparate with precious cargo while drinking."

Ginny giggled and then abruptly stopped herself. "No more drinks for me."

Vic seemed amused. "Yes, sir."

"We'll meet you there, Weasley," Blaise said with a wink.

Before she could process, she was already outside his door. She promptly leaned against Vic for support, all while saying, "Smooth transport, Vic."

"You get a lot of practice at that club," he said amusedly.

Blaise appeared next to them and eyed Ginny. "Alright there?"

"Where are we?" asked Ginny, looking up at the high, cathedral ceilings of the enclosed space they were in. There was a lift behind them, a door in front of them, and a fireplace off to the side. The only other thing in the gray walled space was a white table in the center of the room with a vase of wildflowers on it. "Is this your home?"

"Thanks, Vic. I'll see you for tomorrow's meeting," Blaise said with a nod. "I can take it from here."

Vic nodded and Apparated out of the room.

"This, Weasley, is my reception area," Blaise said. "I don't like guests being able to Floo directly into my flat, so the fireplace inside only does Floo calls and select few people can Floo in or out."

"Where's Draco gone?" Ginny asked, looking around as Blaise tapped his wand to the door.

"Upstairs. He needed to check on something in his flat," Blaise said.

"You two live in the same building?" asked Ginny with a smile.

Blaise shrugged as the door opened. "Malfoy International owns the building so he's had that flat since he left Hogwarts. I didn't leave the Manor until Mother married husband number six, and when I did, the Malfoys booted out the tenant on this floor and sold the flat to me."

"Nice of them," Ginny said.

"They have their moments," Blaise replied. He waved his hand and motioned for her to go inside. "After you."

Ginny had expected something grand and opulent. Instead, she got something that was simple, if not large. She entered into a wide hallway with a closet off to the side that opened up into large space. There was a combination kitchen, dining room off to the right, all shiny gray marble and frosted glass cabinets. Directly in front of her was the living room—dark wood floors and contemporary furniture that she didn't picture for Blaise. A wall of windows spanned one side of the room, looking out onto a vista of the sleepy town. Off to the left were a small hallway and a set of metal staircases that seemed to lead to a loft space above.

"I see you like art," Ginny said, looking at the surrounding white walls covered in various modern art pieces.

Blaise nodded and removed his jacket, unraveling his bowtie. "I frequent the art galleries in London a lot."

"They're beautiful," Ginny said, observing the splash of color that it brought to the room's otherwise neutral tone. "Your home is lovely."

"Thanks," Blaise said from the sidebar. He pointed down the small hallway. "The bathrooms are down there if you need them, and there are two others upstairs."

Ginny nodded, resting her purse down on the couch and toeing off her shoes. "Do you mind?"

"No, make yourself comfortable," Blaise said. He was shaking a metal cup vigorously.

"I don't think—"

"It's very light," Blaise said. "Like I said earlier though, if you really don't want it, I have water, tea, and some other beverages in the kitchen. Help yourself."

"One drink," Ginny agreed. He was being surprisingly hospitable and not the least bit as annoying as earlier.

The chairs in the living room surrounded a fireplace that had a low fire going, the glow setting off the painting above the mantle beautifully. She clenched her toes in the plush rug beneath her feet as she sat down in an incredibly comfortable chair closer to the heat of the fire, while still being able to see the nighttime view of Hogsmeade.

"Here you are, my lady," Blaise said. The fireplace lit green, and Draco stepped out sans suit jacket and tie. "Firewhiskey?"

Draco nodded and lifted his right hand. "I brought some tequila. I don't like showing up empty handed."

Blaise chuckled. "Remember that time in Puerto Vallarta?"

"I do. Very well," Draco said with a smirk.

Blaise walked to the bar and started pouring their drinks. "Draco burns quite easily, you see. It's the whole pasty thing."

"I wasn't referring to that incidence," Draco said with a slight scowl as he too took his shoes off.

Ginny giggled at the sight of his socks, which had little golden snitches flying around his ankle. It was such an odd sight to see Draco Malfoy, in what could only be considered, unconventional socks. It also struck Ginny as being incredibly intimate for some reason. She sipped the drink that Blaise had obviously cooled with his wand, attempting to banish thoughts of intimacy and Draco Malfoy from her mind.

"As I was saying," Blaise continued, joining Ginny in the living room on the sofa to her right, "Draco burns easily. We thought it would be a good idea to go to this local beach bar and have a few drinks, mingle with the townies."

"Townies? Your language is appalling," Draco said from over at the bar.

"Well, we had a little too much of some of the best tequila, better than this imported nonsense we get here," Blaise said. "And the next morning, the two of us woke up on the beach around a burned out fire in our shorts only."

Ginny laughed. "What on earth happened?"

Draco joined Blaise and set out three shot glasses. "If you find out, let us know."

"Lucius had to come get us, thankfully without informing either of our mothers since we were only about four months out of graduation at the time. Draco here ended up getting treated by a healer for sun poisoning, and I was, well, crispy is the best way to describe it," Blaise said, leaning back and crossing his ankles. "Good times."

"We should make a trip down there again," Draco said. He shuffled a shot over to Ginny, who eyed it warily. "Admit it, letting loose feels good."

She had to admit, at least to herself, that it did feel good. There was something to be said about seeing Blaise and Draco so relaxed, Draco in particular. She was waiting for him to close up at the story or make some sort of sexual innuendo about girls. Instead, he was handing her a shot glass expectantly and sharing stories of his past—rather Blaise was doing the sharing and Draco was doing the tolerating. She guessed it was the alcohol, he had a lot more than she did. But it was nice to talk to people around her age that weren't friends with her brothers or weren't her sister-in-laws.

"Fine," Ginny said, lifting the shot from the table. "But just this one."

"To?" Blaise said, raising his glass.

"Never being sun burned again," Ginny said.

"I can drink to that," Draco said.

They clinked glasses and sat in pensive silence as it worked its way through their systems. Ginny was feeling particularly hazy, mindless thoughts sifting through her brain.

"I could really use a cigarette," she blurted out.

Blaise groaned. "Not you too?"

"Come on, Weasley. Blaise's balcony is this way," Draco said, standing with his drink. "Blaise, a snack?"

"I'm not a house elf," Blaise said, even as he got up.

"Just a really good host," Ginny said with a smile as she stood, albeit a little unsteadily, and grabbed her drink.

"It feels like you two are oddly seducing me into a state of domesticity, but I feel flattered anyways," Blaise said, moving towards the kitchen.

Ginny followed behind Draco as they went down the small hallway, past the bathroom, and to a set of French double doors at the end of the hall. An ornate iron wall covering on either side of the balcony doors held little candles that lit up as they entered, emitting a soft glow. An outdoor table with a fire pit in the middle sat in the center of a ring of comfortable lounge chairs, and Ginny took a seat, waiting for Draco to join her.

He handed her a lit cigarette before sitting down in a chair across from her. "So you never did tell me the story of how you started smoking."

She shrugged as he lit the fire pit before lighting a cigarette for himself. "Not very interesting. I saw my brothers doing it and decided I wanted to try. I never really smoked regularly."

"Until the stress of working for my father?" he quipped.

"Something like that," Ginny said, watching the ashes disappear as soon as they appeared. "And you?"

"I'm a Malfoy. Bad habits come to me naturally," he said with outspread palms. "Plus, in my sixth and seventh year at Hogwarts, anything calming was readily accepted."

"I can imagine," she said, watching him thoughtfully. She sipped her drink and put it back down on the table. "This is odd."

"Not being at each other's throats?"

"Yes, that," she replied.

"Everyone grows out of old habits," Draco said.

"Do you ever wonder what Hogwarts would have been like if none of us had the threat of doom and gloom above us?" Ginny sighed, sinking further back into the cushioned seats. "You know, just a couple of normal kids."

"I try not to," Draco said, touching his drink to his lips briefly. "What good will it do?"

"I guess so," Ginny said. "Still, I think there would have been a little more unity if we hadn't."

"The system is set up for us all to become enemies, not to the extent we were but that was due to the times. The housing system pits us against one another to win the house cup and the Quidditch cup," Draco replied. "No matter what, we would have had animosity towards one another."

"Especially us since Weasleys and Malfoys don't get along," Ginny replied.

"Yet, here we are," Draco said. "Sharing a drink, smoking cigarettes, and somehow managing not to end up in a duel."

"It's a scandal worthy of Rita Skeeter's wild imaginings," Ginny said.

They both regaled about some of Rita Skeeter's juiciest lies, sharing all the stories and the truths behind the lie. After more than a few laughs, they drifted in silence as they both started in on their second cigarette.

"I suppose you're right though. And everything aside, your father would have still tried to resurrect Voldemort through that diary stunt," Ginny said offhandedly after her first drag of the cigarette. "We would have definitely hated one another after that—though I never blamed you for that. Actions of the father and all that."

She was idly twirling her glass stem between her fingers so she didn't notice the perplexed look on his face as she continued to ramble on.

"I try to hate people based on their own individual actions, you know? It's a lot easier to justify that way," she said with a rueful smile. "Everyone on his or her own merit."

"Diary?" asked Draco.

She froze and looked at him, her head cocked to the side. "You don't know?" Before he could answer, her eyes widened. "Merlin, you really have no idea. He never told you."

"What are you—"

Blaise came onto the balcony then, a wooden tray in his hand. He took in the tableau: Ginny staring at Draco in shock, and Draco leaning forward intently, his hand grasping the glass. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No," Ginny said firmly. She shook her head, the motion causing her to be a little dizzy. "Whatever that is smells delicious."

"Just some meats, cheeses, and cornish pasties," Blaise said. "It's all I could summon up after tequila."

Ginny returned her gaze to Draco, who looked at her with hard steel eyes. "Sounds delicious."

"I forgot my drink," Blaise said quickly, eyeing the two of them before retreating.

"It's not my place to tell you," Ginny said softly. "I didn't know you were unaware and—"

"Never mind," Draco said. He stood and emptied his glass. "I should go. Blaise will see that you get home okay."

"Draco—"

He went inside, and Ginny felt the sinking feeling that she had somehow offended him by not telling him. She shook her head, idly grabbing something from the tray, even as she downed the drink. She didn't want to think of the repercussions that tonight would have, and she certainly didn't feel much like regretting it right now.

"Here," Blaise said as he appeared at her side with a drink in hand. "He sometimes gets in snits that lead me to drinking. I thought you might need some of the same."

"You two apparently deal with each other the same way," Ginny said. She looked out at the view of the park, thoughts swimming. "Is he—"

"He's complicated," Blaise said with a shrug. "Draco has a hard time opening up to people because there is a long line of them waiting to use him."

"That's—"

"Tough," Blaise finished for her with a grin. "So just me and you, huh? What to do, what to do?"

"Drink," Ginny said as she sipped on the drink he brought for her. "And you're responsible for me getting home, Draco said."

"Yes, he laid some rules down for what I can and cannot do with you," Blaise said amusedly.

"He has no right," Ginny said indignantly.

Blaise shrugged. "Don't worry. I make it a habit not to listen to everything Draco says. If you plan on spending any time around him, you'll want to do the same."

"I don't—only work related," Ginny said.

Blaise laughed. "Keep telling yourself that. Tonight stopped being work related the minute you came back to my place."

"But—"

"Relax, Weasley. You're allowed to have a life outside of work, even if it's with unsavory characters like myself," Blaise said.

They lapsed into silence as Ginny finished her drink quicker than she meant to. "Where do we go from here?"

"Assuming you mean Draco, he'll be boorish for the next few days, depending on what that exchange was when I came out here," Blaise said. "Let me know if he gives you too much trouble and I can knock some sense into him."

"You might have a lot of knocking to do," Ginny replied.

Blaise chuckled. "You are too much fun, Weasley. Let's go inside and get refills."


End file.
